The Slaves Of Sanofainus
by Clare
Summary: My very first Visionaries fanfic recently revised. Seven months after he hoodwinked Merklynn into releasing him, the wizard Bogavas presents the Spectral Knights with their greatest challenge yet when he kidnaps three of their number.
1. Evil Afoot

**

Evil Afoot

**

The Three Suns of Prysmos beat down on Gawalar as he followed the wizard who had taken his son.

He had seen the wizard and his robed gang two days earlier but had not given them a second thought - not until he returned home to Mecron to find his house ransacked and Dagan nowhere to be found.

The people of Mecron had witnessed the events of the previous day, but could tell Gawalar nothing apart from the fact that the youth had been taken by the wizard Bogavas, who wandered the land looking for young people to enslave. Although he knew he was unlikely ever to succeed in his aims, Gawalar had sworn not to rest until his son was found and Bogavas was made to pay for what he had done.

* * *

Bogavas was rapidly losing patience. He stood in the disused warehouse, ever vigilant for the arrival of Brother Turel and the slaves. In the months since his escape from the Wizards' Jail, he had completely corrupted many of the monks who had given him sanctuary at their monastery in the notorious Anarchy Zone. The next step had been to volunteer their services to Sanofainus, supplying slaves to work in the latter's underground kingdom.

But, right now, there was a obstacle in his path - an obstacle called New Valarak.

Brother Turel arrived, leading fourteen young Prysmosians by the end of a long chain to which they were securely fastened by their wrists. He wrapped the end of the chain round the fork on a forklift truck and padlocked it into position. The slaves - who included both males and females - slumped down exhausted, ignoring the hard floor and grateful to be brought indoors for once.

The youngest of the captives, a small dark-haired girl about seven years old, moaned pitifully. "Water," she gasped, struggling to sit up.

As Turel strode across with his strap ready to strike, the girl cowered in terror. "I'll water you, you little pest!" Turel swore. "How's about a good hiding, eh?"

But, before the slaver-monk could swing his strap, Bogavas waved his hand and caused the strap to fly out of Turel's hand and hover in mid-air - just out of reach.

"You idiot!" Bogavas said, turning on his second-in-command. "Turel, do you want to end up with a load of useless corpses? If not, you'd better give the brat a drink - come to think of it, they all look like they need some refreshment. Brother Gudd, take care of the slaves." To Brother Turel he demanded: "Are they all here?"

"Yes - except a couple who were too weak to continue," replied Brother Turel. "I just . . ." He drew his finger across his throat with a sharp jerk.

"I only hope you weren't spotted," said Bogavas, after briefly considering giving Turel a tongue-lashing for slaying good slaves. But a slave who was too exhausted to keep going was no use to anyone, so it was better to end their lives quickly rather than let them go and risk them going for help. "News travels fast on Prysmos, and we're very close to New Valarak. Believe me, those Spectral Knights wouldn't let us get within a mile of the place if they knew what we're going to do?"

"What have they got to do with anything?" demanded Brother Gawonde, whose favourite pastime was looking for an excuse to lash out with his strap.

Bogavas stroked his beard, remembering the encounter he had had with Leoric and his followers and how easy it had been to fool them into thinking he was a potential ally. Bogavas cared little for any mortal - even his slaver-monks were there simply to guard the slaves. "Let me explain," he said grimly. "They are the seven knights who lead the people of New Valarak. Fine job they do of it too, but they're all noble and only bar known enemies from the city. Ever since I used my powers to outwit their mentor, Merklynn, I've been planning on how to deal with them before they hunt me down again."

"What are you going to do, Bogavas?" asked Brother Gudd, his curiousity instantly aroused.

"Remember to keep an eye on the three youngest Spectral Knights while you're there," Bogavas explained. "Two young men and a woman slightly older than them. Got that? Right - their names are Galadria, Arzon and Feryl and they are the ones I'm after. Them, and any other young people we can grab before the people of New Valarak wake up.

"Wake up?" echoed Turel, anxious to know what fiendish scheme Bogavas had come up with now. In all the months they had been capturing slaves, they had never targetted specific individuals; usually, they simply seized any young Prysmosian unlucky enough to stray across their path.

Bogavas began pacing up and down. "Aye! Did you think I'd want witnesses to what I plan to do? Why do you think I waited until now? We are going to go along to that tournament they'll be holding tomorrow and use enough sleeping powder to knock everyone out. So don't touch the refreshments while you're there and don't let anyone, especially not Leoric, suspect anything. If any of you ruin this plan, we'll all be out of there so fast our feet won't touch. Vurus," he added, addressing a hefty slaver-monk standing nearby, "you'll leave this warehouse last. Remember to lock the slaves up - I don't want any escapes and, if just _one_ is missing when we get back, I'll hold you responsible."

The slaves slept fitfully, none of them aware of the conversation that had taken place among their captors. Bogavas gloated at them, telling himself that, if all went according to plan the next day, there would soon be at least three more. Sanofainus would be pleased.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Leoric, I don't like it. It'd be just like Darkstorm to try something while our guard's down," Ectar was saying as he and Leoric set up the archery equipment on the field outside New Valarak.

"Yes - well Galadria and Feryl should be back shortly. Besides, most of the guards are owed leave," Leoric replied. "And there really hasn't been much happening these last few days." As he spoke, the dark-haired leader of the Spectral Knights reflected on his friend's words, recalling that Ectar's instincts were usually pretty reliable when it came to Darkling Lords.

Ectar seemed to sense what Leoric was thinking.

"Darkstorm has caught us off guard before," he reminded him. "Anyway . . ."

"Even Darkling Lords have their uses," filled in a young woman, coming to join the two knights. "In fact, you might say they brought us together," she said to Leoric.

Fletchen, for that was the woman's name, was roughly the same age as Arzon and Feryl, and her gentle nature had been what persuaded Leoric to come to her village to fight what turned out to be a non-existent monster. She had grieved for him on being told he was dead, but later learned that he was merely stuck in his Totem form, the victim of a trap set by Darkstorm. But persuading the rest of her people had been difficult, especially since Darkstorm had played on their dislike of magic to stir up hatred against the Spectral Knights.

But, without Darkstorm, she reflected, she and Leoric would never have met and she would never have learned the difference between good and evil magic.

Just then, the hum of a motor interupted her thoughts as Feryl and Galadria drew up in the Capture Chariot, returning from a morning spent scouting the surrounding countryside in search of any untoward activity. With the threat of invasion from Castle Darkstorm ever present - in addition to the various lawless elements that had thrived on Prysmos since the Alignment - Leoric had always made a point of sending his followers out on regular patrols.

"Anything to report?" Leoric asked as he and Ectar hurried over to hear what Feryl had to say.

"Nothing that involves Darkstorm and his knights," Feryl explained, climbing out of the cockpit. "We did run into a band of cut-purses near Jidaja, but I gave them something to remember us by. So did Galadria," he added, glancing at the golden-haired female Knight seated in the right hover-pod.

Leoric had no doubt of that. Feryl, for all his boyish looks and youthful impulsiveness, was very tough - and Galadria wasn't much different. And, when you added the Capture Chariot's firepower to the equation, the young knight was more than capable of giving a band of thieves a run for their money. Aside from a rather unfortunate mishap in a fight with some pirates a while back, Feryl had never let Leoric down in battle yet.

"That's good to hear," Leoric told Feryl, relieved that there appeared to be no signs of activity at Castle Darkstorm. "I was just telling Ectar it was time we could relax for a while without having to worry about guarding the city."

* * *

Little did he suspect that, less than a mile away, Bogavas was finalising his fiendish plot.

"Now, do all of you know what to do?" he asked his slavers as they gathered around him in the warehouse.

"Go to the tournament, drug everyone and snatch us some slaves," replied Brother Gawonde.

Bogavas nodded with satisfaction and pointed to the nearby wall. The wizard's hand glowed for a moment and, as if it was still the Age of Science and he was a projectionist, he made faint but recognisible images of Galadria, Arzon and Feryl appear on the decaying concrete. "These are the ones I want - I don't care who else we take, so long as we get these three," he reminded them.

"Um? Bogavas?" It was Brother Vurus who had raised his hand, boldly determined to ask the question all the slaver-monks longed to ask.

"Yes - what is it, Vurus?" Bogavas snapped impatiently.

"I was just wondering why we need to go to so much trouble just to get a few slaves, even if they are knights," Vurus explained. "Wouldn't it be better to . . . well . . . grab 'em and run?"

Bogavas raised his hand to cast a spell on Vurus, but thought better of it. "Because these are not ordinary knights," he said simply. "They are users of magic and I've seen how well they work together - that's why I've got to break the group up. A case of . . . divide and conquer, you might say."

* * *

Late that afternoon, the tournament was in full swing, with the entire population of New Valarak gathered on the meadow outside the city. Two pedestals had been set up in the main arena and young men competed to knock each other off using wooden paddles.

Belizar, a dark-haired young man who originally came from the lost city of Khemir and aspired to become a knight, had already gone six rounds undefeated and was now facing Arzon. The Spectral Knights were allowed to compete on one condition - no shapeshifting was allowed. So Arzon concentrated on deposing his opponent, spurred on by the shouts of the assembled crowd.

"Keep it up, Arzon - you've lasted longer than the others!"

"Careful - he's coming at you again!"

Arzon moved to dodge Belizar's paddle and made a swipe with his own. Unfortunately, he was too near the edge of the pedestal and, losing his balance, fell onto a pile of hay placed round the base to break each fighter's fall as he was deposed. The crowd applauded his efforts as Belizar leapt off the other pedastal and called out the challenge.

"Does anyone else think he can take me on?"

"Good try, Arzon," Feryl said, joining his friend. "You nearly had him once or twice."

Arzon, who was a natural optimist, smiled. "Remind me never to play that game against Belizar again," he commented light-heartedly.

"Well, you know how proud Khemirites are," said Feryl, recalling how - until they got to know the Spectral Knights - most of Khemir's inhabitants had been stubbornly trying to cling to their Age of Technology lifestyle. "I'm going to have a look round some of the stalls - you coming?"

The arena was surrounded by a collection of stalls, some serving refreshments but most featuring games of chance. Near one which required players to guess which hand of cards contained an ace of hearts, old Gleering, Fletchen's father, was regaling a group of wide-eyed children with tales of the Spectral Knights' exploits. Feryl happened to be passing just as his name was mentioned and waved to Gleering in greeting.

But the relaxed atmosphere was soon to be shattered.

* * *

Marna, one of Belizar's fellow Khemirites, had seen Bogavas and his gang approaching. She hurriedly sought out Leoric and told him.

"They're coming from the west. Can't say I've ever seen them before," she informed him.

"Who?" Leoric was instantly on the alert. All thoughts of relaxation were forgotten as his instinctive desire to protect his people from invasion kicked in.

"There must be at least twenty-five. It's a group of travellers - all men. Their leader seems to be a wizard."

Leoric glanced round at Cryotek, Witterquick and Ectar, who were standing nearby, before his gaze finally settled on the latter.

"Ectar, go find Galadria," he instructed. "I want you both to find out what they want. Hopefully, it won't be anything too serious."

Both Ectar and Galadria knew they had seen the wizard somewhere before, although neither could recall exactly where. Ectar, never one to take his suspicions lightly, was all for sending the travellers on their way, but Galadria chided him.

"Ectar, don't be so ill-mannered," she said. "We can at least be civilised to passing travellers. Welcome to New Valarak, sir," she said to Bogavas. "Who might you be and what brings you here?"

Bogavas laughed and took the young woman's hand. "Charmed, my dear Galadria," he said, his voice dripping courtesy. "As to what I'm doing here . . ."

"How does he know who you are?" demanded Ectar, a note of suspicion in his voice.

"He's a wizard - remember?" whispered Galadria.

* * *

Bogavas and his gang mingled freely with the people of New Valarak, many of whom were overawed at having a wizard in their midst - Prysmosian wizards tended to keep themselves to themselves. All the while, they eyed the young adults and older children - paying particular attention to Galadria, Arzon and Feryl - ready to grab their victims when the right moment came. No-one saw Gudd sprinkling powder on the refreshments, but its effects were soon felt.

The first sign that something was wrong came when Galadria came across Cryotek sitting with his head in his hands and complaining of a raging headache. "If you've given yourself a hangover, I'll . . ." she swore as she strode over to him.

"N - no . . . I haven't been in the beer tent once today," Cryotek said groggily. "Something must be . . ." Before he could get any further, he keeled over and no amount of shaking could rouse him.

Galadria glanced round and noticed to her horror that everyone seemed to be in a stupor; she knew she should inform Leoric, but she was too tired to bother . . .

Before long, the meadow resembled a battlefield, with several hundred people lying unconscious or barely awake. Leoric leaned against the barrier around the arena, his head spinning. The last thing he saw before blacking out was Bogavas and Brother Turel walking round, conversing in low tones.

* * *


	2. Aftermath

**

Aftermath

**

Witterquick was revived by heavy rain pelting down on New Valarak and the surrounding countryside. He lay where he had fallen, exhausted and barely able to prop himself up on one arm - until a scream from one of the children jarred him fully awake.

"Belizar!"

A woman hurried over, her clothes drenched with rain and her wet hair clinging to her face. "Was that my Nenyah screaming just then?" she asked anxiously. She and Witterquick hurried to where a little girl of not quite eight years old knelt under a tree, seemingly oblivious to the mud that was staining her trousers. The young Khemirite, Belizar, lay face-down on the ground and appeared equally oblivious to the child's attempts to rouse him.

"Belizar, get up," the girl pleaded, shaking him. "Please try - you'll get soaked if you stay there."

"Leoric, over here!" called Witterquick as he drew level with the little girl and realised something must be seriously wrong. "We've got to find out what's happened - looks like Belizar's been attacked. Take Nenyah inside and get her into some dry clothes, Alysonya," he said to the woman.

Alysonya sheltered her daughter as best she could as they hurried into New Valarak. Leoric and Witterquick watched them go before kneeling beside Belizar, while, all around them, people milled about in confusion. The last thing anyone remembered was the appearence of a wizard and what they could only assume were his acolytes, swiftly followed by the entire population of New Valarak suffering a mass blackout. And it appeared they had woken to a crisis, a situation more dire than any the city of New Valarak had yet experienced.

"What happened?" someone mumbled.

"I don't know, but it looks like the tournament's over," said another person.

"Wonder what made us all go to sleep like that . . ."

"And what's going on over there? Who - or what - are Leoric and Witterquick looking at?"

Leoric turned Belizar onto his back, prompting a sharp intake of breath from Witterquick when he saw that the Khemirite youth's throat had been cut, slit from left to right by a sharp blade. Belizar's eyes stared sightlessly at the two Spectral Knights and his mouth was slightly open, frozen into a final silent scream.

"He's dead! Leoric, who could have done such a thing?" Witterquick demanded, aghast at the idea that murder had been committed right under the Spectral Knights' noses.

Leoric stood up and spoke, trying to keep the grief and rage out of his voice - he too was appalled by what had happened, but he never let personal feelings get in the way of his duties as both the leader of the Spectral Knights and the governor of New Valarak. "I don't know, Witterquick - and we won't find out standing around here. I'll get Feryl to scout round in the Capture Chariot and . . ." A groan cut him short.

Gleering staggered over, holding a cloth to a deep cut on his head, the patch he wore over his blind eye knocked askew. Holding onto Leoric for support, he told the two knights of the horrific crime he had witnessed. "Stop them . . . no . . . don't! Belizar . . . hurt . . . leave him alone! The wizard . . . the wizard . . ." He could get no further.

* * *

Something resembling normality was restored in New Valarak, although no-one felt much like continuing with the tournament. Most of the inhabitants had returned home, leaving the Spectral Knights and the Council to try and unravel the mystery of Belizar's death and the attack on Gleering.

"I don't know about anyone else," Ectar began, "but I'm fairly sure that wizard and his band had something to do with it. Leoric, didn't Gleering say something about . . .?"

"Aye, it was the wizard all right!" cut in a young woman, pounding the table to emphasise her words. "I'll bet he magicked us as well."

"Magicked nothing!" retorted Ectar, rising in his seat and seething with anger at the interuption. "That was a powerful sleeping potion - I knew we couldn't trust that lot!"

Leoric hammered with his gavel; Ectar had a habit of turning meetings into shouting matches and this one was too important to waste time on things like that. "Enough!" he shouted above the ensuing argument. "Ectar, Allaryn - don't bandy wild accusations; either of you could be right, but we won't know until Gleering is ready to tell us what he saw. Which brings me to the next point - what did they want?"

"Not our Power Staffs, that's certain," said Witterquick, unable to think of anything else that might of interest to a wizard. "I checked - they're all in the armoury."

Leoric nodded to acknowledge this statement. "All right, then - if it wasn't our Power Staffs, what _was_ it?"

"And another thing, Leoric," piped up the young woman, Allaryn. "Three of your knights seem to be missing . . ." Leoric scanned his followers - sure enough the chairs normally occupied by Galadria, Arzon and Feryl were empty, and it wasn't like any of the three not to turn up for a meeting. In all the confusion and panic over what had happened, he had forgotten to check that all the Spectral Knights were present. And if the disappearence of his three comrades was connected to what had happened to Belizar and Gleering . . .

"Your attention, please," he said, standing up and keeping his voice as level as he could. "Has anyone seen Galadria, Arzon and Feryl?" Everyone in the room shook their heads.

"Not since we all passed out," replied Ectar, who had been with Feryl when the young knight fainted. "We'd better find them - and fast. I'll go get the Lancer Cycle."

He got up to go, but Leoric pressed him back down, unwilling to risk losing another of his followers. "No, Ectar - we'll have to organise proper search parties. We don't even know if they're all together."

"Anyway," Leoric went on, resuming his seat and tapping a pile of papers on the table to straighten them out. "It seems we have a crisis on our hands and, until we can be sure those . . ." He was about to utter a word that betrayed how he really felt about the men who had caused so much trouble but thought better of it. " . . . people won't come back, I'm declaring a dusk-to-dawn curfew. In addition, no-one is to set foot outside the city walls unaccompanied until further notice."

* * *

Having dismissed the meeting, Leoric and Ectar went to check on Gleering, now recovering in the house which he and Fletchen had moved into only two weeks earlier, and question him about what had happened.

"Just before the wizard arrived, I felt a bit faint so I decided to go lie down for a while," Gleering explained. "But I'm fairly certain you were all drugged - every one of you. A sleep spell would have knocked all of you out at once. Anyway, I soon felt better and decided to head back outside - and that's when I saw what was happening . . ."

"What happened, Gleering?" asked Leoric, sitting beside the older man, an urgent tone in his voice. "What were they after?"

"Our young people," Gleering replied. "They - they _took_ Arzon, Galadria, Fletchen . . ." He struggled to continue, to force himself to reveal the names of the other victims.

"Did they take anyone else?" asked Ectar who, like his leader, was trying not to let Gleering know how anxious he was. He had a feeling he knew what one of the names would be, but that feeling needed to be confirmed.

Gleering forced himself to continue. "Little Pallenne and Feryl too - they took all five," he told them, confirming what Ectar and Leoric knew on a gut level already. "They tried to take Belizar too, but he was still awake enough to try to escape. The wizard threw something - a metal spike on a stick - it got Belizar right in the throat. I went after them alone, but there were too many - I couldn't do anything against them . . . I'm sorry, Leoric."

* * *

Leoric stood by the window, fighting back tears of anguish, as he struggled to take in Gleering's news. Some deep instinct told him the young Spectral Knights had been deliberately targetted, but that failed to explain why Fletchen, the young woman he loved, and Pallenne, an innocent eleven-year-old girl with no connections to the Spectral Knights, had also been kidnapped. What was more, Pallenne was Alysonya's daughter - Alysonya and Nenyah would have to be informed.

The rain lashed at the window, making it impossible to see what was happening outside, its vicious onslaught mirroring the turmoil in Leoric's mind. Ectar had gone to talk things over with Witterquick and Cryotek, but Leoric wanted to be alone for a while to get over the initial shock of learning what had happened to his young comrades and plan what to do next.

"Leoric?" It was Alysonya, who had appeared in the doorway with Nenyah at her side. The woman was trying to be brave for the sake of her remaining daughter, but her tone of voice betrayed her true feelings. "I - I've been talking to Ectar and he says those . . . fiends have Pallenne. Please, tell me it's not true!"

Leoric shook his head slowly and with much reluctance. "I wish I could Alysonya, but I'm afraid they do," he told her.

"Oh - oh no!" Alysonya drew Nenyah close to her as if to shield her from the danger that now threatened her sister.

Seeing the stricken mother and child was all it took to rouse Leoric from the state of numbed shock he had been in since talking to Gleering. When he next spoke, his voice had assumed its usual authoritative tone but with an underlying desire to avenge the wrong that had been done.

"I will follow you where-ever you may go, Bogavas!" he vowed, realising at last who the wizard was. "And nothing will prevent me from rescuing my friends!"

* * *

Feryl woke to find himself lying on hard concrete, his head pounding as the effects of the sleeping potion wore off. He lay still for a moment before attempting to move, but, when he did, he quickly fell back with a jerk and a clanking of metal. He was chained.

He raised his head slowly and took stook of his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be an old warehouse - packing cases lined the far wall where they had been left after the Age of Technology ended - and there were others chained with him, all young people, three of whom he recognised.

"Galadria! Arzon! Fletchen! What . . .?"

"Silence, slave!" Brother Turel crossed the room in three strides and gave Feryl a hefty blow with his strap.

With that, Turel marched off, leaving Feryl dazed and struggling to work out what was going on. His immediate neighbour on the slave-chain was a fair-haired youth of around seventeen years old who, judging by the fact his clothes were not as ragged as those some of the prisoners were wearing, had only recently been captured himself. "That's Brother Turel," he explained in a hurried whisper. "He's among the worst of this lot, so try not to get on the wrong side of him. By the way, I'm Dagan - what's your name?"

"Feryl - I come from New Valarak."

"So you're one of the three knights Bogavas was after," remarked Dagan, who had overheard Bogavas and his gang going over their plan the previous day. "This lot are a slaving band, but where they're taking us is beyond me."

"My friends and I have met Bogavas before," Arzon added, after casting a discreet eye round to make sure their captors couldn't hear. "About . . . seven months ago, I think it was." He was about to tell Dagan the story of how the Spectral Knights had been sent to recapture three rogue wizards and how Bogavas had, seemingly, passed an honesty test set by Merklynn when something interupted him.

Pallenne, chained to the other side of Dagan, began to stir. "Wh - where am I?" she mumbled, struggling to sit up. "What's going on? Who - who put these chains on me?"

"They did," replied Feryl as Bogavas and several of his followers approached the young captives.

* * *

The slavers removed the five new prisoners from the slave-chain and marched them outside with two slavers flanking each slave. Once they stood in the disused car-park, getting wetter by the second, Bogavas materialised in front of them and produced a sharp spike on a stick from under his robes.

"I am Bogavas and you are now my slaves!" he told them, pacing up and down as he spoke. "From this day forth, I will see to it that none of you ever knows freedom again; my little toy here will see to that if you try escaping. You wouldn't even know what hit you. Oh - and, in case you think you can dodge out of its path, there's a marksmanship spell on it so don't bother! Meanwhile, we are going to take a walk and you will not slow down or straggle. If you do, you'll get a taste of strap. Now, get moving!"

"Nutty as a fruitcake," Fletchen remarked under her breath. Unfortunately, she spoke a little louder than she intended and was rewarded with a sharp blow from Brother Gudd's strap.

"Keep your mouth shut!" he ordered. "When we want your opinion, we'll ask for it!"

"Yes," Brother Turel added. "Remember this - you're a slave now; if we say you're to do something, you better do it!"

The five prisoners were escorted back into the warehouse and reattached to the slave-chain, which Brother Gawonde had unfastened from the forklift truck. Bogavas paced the line, checking everything was secure, before giving the order to start marching.

* * *


	3. Hunters And Hunted

****

Hunters And Hunted

Upon finding out about Bogavas's evil plot, the Spectral Knights had immediately set out for Iron Mountain. Merklynn seemed concerned when Leoric had explained the situation fully.

"I feared this would happen eventually," he told the four knights standing before him. "Bogavas has corrupted most of the monks he was mingling with and taken service under the evil Sanofainus."

With that, Merklynn turned to his magical viewscreen and waved his hand, summoning a scene more ghastly than anything the Spectral Knights had ever before witnessed.

It showed an underground kingdom lit by flaming torches which gave the chilling impression of something very evil. Scores of youths and maidens, including a sizeable number of children, worked without a pause, all of them in chains. Some were hacking rocks off the walls of the cavern and passing them along chain-gangs until the person at the end put the rocks into a wheelbarrow. Each wheelbarrow had a slave chained to the handles, and he or she would periodically trundle the full barrow to where another group of slaves were breaking rocks, while yet more young people waited nearby to dispose of the rubble. Stern-faced guards cruelly flogged the workers with vicious looking cat-o'-nine-tails, sometimes just for the sake of it.

"What's that all about?" demanded Leoric, realising to his horror that this was what lay in store for his young friends. The idea that such brutality was happening on Prysmos offended everything Leoric stood for and the tone in his voice left those within earshot in no doubt that he would put a stop to it no matter what.

"They are the slaves of Sanofainus," Merklynn replied. "And, seven months ago, _that_ was the Lost Shrine."

"You still haven't explained what they're doing," interjected Cryotek, a note of impatience in his voice.

"During the First Age of Magic, seven Magic Crystals were created - Crystals so powerful that their creators feared they would fall into the wrong hands," Merklynn explained. "So they were buried deep underground, in the foundations of the Lost Shrine and the one parchment that revealed their whereabouts was hidden where no-one would ever find it . . ."

"Except a wizard," Ectar added grimly. "If my guess is right, Bogavas found it and got this Sanofainus in on the act - either that or Sanofainus somehow found out on his own and decided he'd move into the Lost Shrine."

"Your second guess is closest to the truth, Ectar," Merklynn replied. "Just after you left the Anarchy Zone the first time, he set about enslaving all the young people living near the Lost Shrine . . ." The wizard paused and paced the floor for a moment before continuing. "I had hoped this would never affect you directly, but, since it has, it makes your mission even more urgent."

"Why is that, Merklynn?" asked Leoric, aware of a strange sense of foreboding.

"The Crystals must never be looked at by a magic-user," replied Merklynn. "Otherwise, that person's own magic will turn against them."

With that grim warning, Merklynn dismissed the Spectral Knights.

* * *

Bogavas and his gang pressed the prisoners very hard, determined to get well away from New Valarak before Leoric sent someone to follow them or - more likely - set out personally to rescue his captive friends. Walking through heavy rain was far from easy at the best of times, but chains and the constant beatings made matters worse for the captives.

The wet weather presented its own hazards. Arzon slipped in a puddle and fell flat on his face, almost pulling Galadria and Fletchen, who were chained behind him, over as well. Vurus saw this as an obvious case of delaying tactics, something he was not in the mood for. He stormed over to Arzon, roughly pulled him into a sitting position and raised his strap to beat him.

"On your feet, slave!" he ordered. "Don't stand gawping! Get marching, the lot of you!" he yelled at the others.

"Listen," said Dagan as the column began to move again, "next time you fall, get up immediately - before one of the slavers spots you. It's the only way you can stay out of trouble."

Further down the line, a young slaver named Brother Delven strode casually over to Fletchen and began to bait her.

"Hello, my dear - Fletchen, isn't it?" he gloated. "I couldn't help noticing, but you and Leoric seem awfully close."

"What's it to you?" demanded Fletchen, not caring for the tone in his voice. It was bad enough being a prisoner and made to march through a driving storm and the last thing she needed was suggestive comments from her captors.

"Talking of Leoric, is he as valiant a fighter as they say?" Delven went on, warming to his plan. "Because Bogavas "dealt with" your beloved father and some Khemirite whelp as well - killed 'em! So I don't think you'll see them again!"

"No!" Fletchen yelled, striking Delven with her chains as the enormity of his words dawned on her. "You liar! I'll kill you!"

Feryl, walking ahead of Fletchen, heard the commotion and wished he could assume his Wolf form and teach the slaver-monk some manners. But being chained to eighteen other people made shapeshifting an unwise move; any loose objects a Visionary was touching at such moments was absorbed into the animal's shape. Instead he ran at Delven, dragging the other prisoners with him, and started punching and kicking as the others watched nervously.

"You - you filthy murdering scum!" Feryl said as he shoved Delven to the ground. "If Leoric was here right now, he'd . . ."

Before Feryl could finish his sentence, several slavers came charging down the line with their straps raised ready to deal with the two insubordinates. Between them, they quickly beat Feryl and Fletchen back into line, keeping their friends from interfering by brandishing their straps at any who showed any sign of moving. Fletchen, however, jerked the chain rebelliously, her long light-brown plait whipping out behind her.

"One day, I'll escape!" she vowed. "And, when I do, nothing will stop me avenging my father's death!"

"You won't get free!" smirked Brother Delven. "No-one ever escapes from Sanofainus!"

* * *

Bogavas halted the slaves on a deserted farm and chained them to a gatepost. Grateful for the long-awaited rest, they slumped down on the wet ground while the slavers set up their own campsite nearby. Dagan sat with his chains dangling between his knees and let his mind drift.

"Phew - at least it's stopped raining now," Pallenne remarked. "How much more have we got to put up with?"

"I've no idea, Pallenne," replied Dagan. "I don't even know where they're taking us."

"One of them mentioned Sanofainus earlier," Fletchen chipped in. "Could that have something to do with it?"

"Could be," Arzon admitted with a shrug. "There was a master criminal by that name; he disappeared years ago. At least that's what I've read . . ."

Galadria was the eldest of the six companions, but even she was too young to remember Sanofainus at first hand. "It was a long time ago - I was just a little girl then," she explained when they turned to her. "It's a pity you don't have your Staff, Arzon; you could have asked it what Sanofainus - if it is Sanofainus we're being taken to - wants with us."

Arzon had been thinking along much the same lines, but there was little he - or anyone else - could do under their current circumstances. "I've a feeling we'll find out soon enough," he said at last. "Right now, I'm too tired to bother." With that, he lay back on the damp grass and was asleep within seconds.

"It's time we all got some sleep," said Galadria. "If tomorrow's anything like today . . ."

* * *

"Feryl! Hey, Feryl!"

Feryl woke with a start at the sharp nudge from Arzon. The first Sun had just risen and the second was peering over the horizon, bringing with it the promise of a fine day in contrast to yesterday's downpour. Feryl glanced at his companions, noting that he and Arzon were the only ones awake. Next to them, Galadria mumbled something in her sleep and rolled onto her side.

"What's going on?" Feryl asked sleepily, none too pleased at being disturbed.

"Your snoring woke me up," replied Arzon.

Feryl woke up properly and sat up, glaring at Arzon. "I do _not_ snore!" he retorted.

"And when have you been awake to hear yourself?"

"Actually, you were doing your share earlier. Besides . . ."

The others were woken by their voices. "Look," interjected Galadria, realising that quarrels were the last thing they needed under their current circumstances, "never mind who does and who doesn't snore - we're all in this together, so . . ."

"What's all the shouting about?" demanded Brother Vurus. He was standing with Brother Galm, another slaver, directly in front of Arzon. Between them, they had hold of a bewildered little girl about Pallenne's age, an attractive youngster with long flaxen hair and blue-grey eyes that bore an expression of stunned surprise at the situation she now found herself in.

"Nothing really," replied Arzon. "We thought we heard a wild animal - that's all."

Vurus grunted as he chained the girl between Galadria and Fletchen. "Glad you're all so wide awake!" he said sarcastically. "The rest of you, get up - we're moving as soon as Bogavas is ready."

* * *

As they began the day's march, the girl who had just been captured touched Galadria's arm. "Who are these men?" she asked. "Are they always this nasty?"

Galadria, who could see herself as a pre-teenager in the youngster, nodded. "The wizard Bogavas and his slavers," she replied. "And I don't much care for what I've seen of them so far. But I don't think we've been introduced," she added. "I'm Galadria of the Spectral Knights - what's your name?"

"Yilly."

"That's a pretty name."

"Glad you like it," said Yilly. "I think it's silly. I'm the only daughter in a family of seven - and only two of my brothers are younger than me. So my parents were so used to having boys that, when I was born, they hadn't bothered to think of any girls' names. It was my Mum who named me after my grans - their names were Yilthi and Nianna, so Mum put them together to get Yilthinianna. I'm called Yilly for short."

She paused and stared at the sky. "I bet my folks'll rescue us soon," she said cheerfully. "They're certain to have missed me by now. And I've heard about how the Spectral Knights never let each other down."

* * *

Trailing Bogavas was proving nigh on impossible. The Spectral Knights knew the general direction they had to head, but the rain had washed away any footprints that might indicate the route Bogavas and his party had taken. To further complicate matters, they would have to make the long journey on foot; the Capture Chariot was useless without Feryl and the Lancer Cycle was only designed for two riders. And that, Leoric thought bitterly, made the delays caused by the lack of a clear trail even more frustrating.

It was tempting - very tempting - to call on the Owl of Wisdom. But he checked himself as he reached for his Power Staff; it would be some time before he had a chance to recharge it and he, Cryotek and Witterquick had consequently agreed not to use their Staffs unless they had to.

Ectar had been a detective before the Alignment, but even he was unsure of the exact direction Bogavas was heading. Leaning against a tree, he voiced his opinions out loud.

"If only Feryl wasn't one of the captives. If he was with us, I bet he could sniff those ruffians out with that nose of his."

"Aye, you're right, Ectar," said Cryotek. "Right now, we could use Arzon to scout ahead for us." Leoric glanced at the two Spectral Knights closest to his own age - it was hard to tell if Cryotek was being off-hand as he was not inclined to talk much and could be rather moody if challenged. A "grumpy old bear" was how Galadria had once half-jokingly described him.

A sudden outburst of loud arguing issuing from the west cut through Leoric's thoughts. The quarrelers were too far away to be heard clearly, but there appeared to be more than two people involved - that much was certain.

"Come on!" called Witterquick as he raced off in the direction of the voices. "Whoever it is, they'll kill each other if we don't stop them!"

* * *

A mob comprising a man and woman in their forties as well as six youths, evidently the couple's sons, had tied a man to a tree and appeared to be trying to extract a confession out of him.

"Look, you!" shouted the eldest son, who might have been about Feryl's age. "Tell us what you've done with our Yilthinianna, or . . ."

"Rubbish - I've never even seen a Yilthina, or whatever you call it!" shouted the prisoner. Judging by his appearence - faded jeans and a blue shirt, as well as the backpack on the ground - he was someone used to exploring and it sounded as though the people attacking him had lost someone or something called Yilthinianna.

"Liar!" retorted another of the youths.

"Yes - lying through his teeth he is!"

"Can't face the consequences, eh?"

"Coward!"

"Most bullies are, Mirak."

"Look - just tell us the truth."

The Spectral Knights knew immediately that they had to do something to break up this confrontation before it got any uglier - maybe then, they could get some answers from the people involved. Moving as one, they assumed their Totem forms and charged at the attackers; taken completely by surprise and faced with what appeared to be wild animals, they began to back away, the youngest boy clinging nervously to his mother's hand.

"What're they doing, Mum?" he asked.

"I don't know, Rarn," she whispered back. "But they seem to be . . ."

She was cut off abruptly as the animals surrounding them disappeared to be replaced by four knights, each with a picture of one of the creatures on his chest-plate. The entire group stood speechless, all thought of trying to extract confessions forgotten, at the sight of the newcomers.

"Sorry about that," Ectar said, smiling as he recalled how unnerving some people found the Spectral Knights' shapeshifting abilities.

While his companions kept the family in check, Leoric set to work untying the prisoner. "Thanks - I was beginning to think I'd had it," the man admitted. "I'm Gawalar and I'm from Mecron. My son, Dagan was snatched by the wizard Bogavas and I was out searching for him when this mad lot grabbed hold of me."

There was a glint in the oldest youth's eyes, a look of triumph as he cottoned on to what Gawalar meant. "Ho!" he declared triumphantly. "I might have known Bogavas took Yilthinianna!"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," interjected Leoric, well aware that every second they wasted brought his captive friends closer to the doom that awaited them in the Lost Shrine. "Who are all of you and _who_ is Yilthinianna?"

The woman looked at him briefly. "You're from New Valarak, aren't you?" she commented. "I can tell by your accent. As for who we are, my name's Atla and this is my husband, Lorro - he's a travelling pedlar. These . . ." She indicated each of the youths in turn. ". . . are our six sons - Detrel, Zirion, Mirak, Patrar, Akronel and Rarn. We've got a daughter too; her name's Yilthinianna, but everyone calls her Yilly. Well, we _did_ have a daughter until Bogavas paid us a visit," she added bitterly.

Leoric, feeling a pang of empathy for Atla's loss of someone close to her, touched her arm. "I know exactly how you feel," he told her.

Atla backed away. Too much had happened to her today, a day which had begun with the discovery that her only daughter was missing. Yilly had gone out at first light to gather firewood - and never returned . . . "How could you know?" she demanded angrily. "Do you have a daughter?"

"No, but Bogavas came to New Valarak two days ago," Leoric replied. And he told her everything Merklynn had told the Spectral Knights about Sanofainus. "Five were taken that day," he explained, "including the three youngest members of our order . . ."

"Your . . . order?" repeated Lorro, who had not spoken until then, as something dawned on him. "You'll be the Spectral Knights then; I've heard talk of you."

"So," Gawalar added as he realised for the first time that, despite what they had done to him, he and his would-be attackers were on the same side, "it looks as though we all have scores to settle with Bogavas. I vote we join forces and give that degenerate wizard what for."

"I have customers to attend to," Lorro pointed out. "But there's no reason why Atla can't go."

"I'm going too," added Detrel, the eldest of the six sons. He brandished a quarterstaff with a rakish air that suggested he was prepared to do whatever it took to rescue his sister.

"No, Detrel," his mother told him in a voice that clearly said there would be no arguments. "The risks are too high - if we fail . . . well, I don't want any more of my family enslaved."

* * *


	4. The Cave

**

The Cave

**

It had been three days since Bogavas and his party had seen anyone, but Bogavas preferred it that way; it meant he did not have to worry about word getting back to anyone. The last thing he wanted was for his plans to be scuppered because his party had been spotted and someone took it upon themselves to liberate the prisoners. There was Leoric and his party of course, but Bogavas meant to put them out of commission - permanently. It was just a matter of waiting for the right moment . . .

As the slaves were led along an abandoned stretch of road lined with broken-down vehicles and rusting signs, Dagan and Galadria exchanged a look.

Galadria faked a yawn.

"I'm almost half-asleep," she panted. "How about you, Dagan?"

"Never mind me, Galadria," yawned Dagan. "I bet these poor slavers are rushed off their feet. . ."

"You're right there," groaned Brother Vurus, turning the collar up on his robes. "I'm sick of keeping you lot going and obeying Bogavas. Don't really know why I bother half the time."

"Well, why don't you quit if you feel like that?" asked Dagan, sounding casual enough. It had been his idea to play a trick on one of the slaver-monks to get back at them for the constant marching and Vurus, who had been the one who dragged Dagan out of his home in Mecron, seemed the perfect target.

But Vurus saw through the ruse - he had been in the slave trade long enough to recognise a baiting when he heard it - and uncoiled his strap, striking Dagan with it seven times.

"That's for trying to get me in trouble!" he snarled, smiling as Dagan vainly struggled to avoid the blows. "I'll show you what lying to us gets you!" Unfortunately, the slaver-monk was so absorbed in administering the beating that he failed to notice when Feryl reached forward and plucked his dagger from his habit cord.

* * *

Bogavas paced the line of twenty young slaves chained to an old streetlamp. "Get to sleep, the lot of you!" he ordered. "If I hear any talking or chain-clanking, I'll send Brother Turel over with his strap!"

With that, the wizard walked away to join his slaver-monks. Feryl watched him go, waiting until he was out of earshot before edging across and nudging Galadria where she lay on the grass.

"Are you asleep?"

Galadria sighed and sat up, wondering what was so important that he had to wake her up. "Not quite, Feryl - what is it?" she asked.

"Not too loud!" Feryl warned her, trying not to raise his own voice above a whisper. "Listen - while Dagan had Vurus distracted this afternoon, I managed to steal his dagger. I thought we could use it to open our manacles."

"Are you sure?"

Feryl nodded, well aware that - unless Leoric found them - this may be their only chance of regaining their freedom. "Quite sure - it only takes a couple of short sharp twists. I managed to open mine a little when no-one was looking. Pass the word on, Galadria."

* * *

Some time later, Dagan raised his head cautiously to check that the slavers were asleep. Certain they were, he slipped his hands free of the manacles and set about waking his friends. Most of them got up without hesitation, their minds focussed solely on the escape plan they had discussed in hurried whispers. But, at the last moment, Pallenne's nerve failed her and she started sobbing with fright.

"I can't - we'll be caught and killed! I'm frightened!"

Fletchen could not stand to see a child so distressed and crouched down to comfort Pallenne. "Come on now," she whispered gently, offering the little girl her hand. "You'll never see New Valarak again if you act frightened. But, if you're brave, you'll soon be back with your mother and sister - that's what you want, isn't it?" Pallenne saw the sense in this and followed Fletchen into the undergrowth, hardly daring to make a sound for fear of disturbing the slavers. Dagan, Feryl and Galadria went next, followed by Arzon and Yilly. The other thirteen prisoners lay chained and asleep; knowledge of what Bogavas did to fugitives had robbed them all of the courage to even consider escaping.

"All right," Arzon said once all seven of them were crouching in the mass of vegetation that had grown up with no-one to keep it check. "Now that we've gotten those chains off, what do we do next?"

"We hole up for a few days until Bogavas gives up on us," replied Feryl. "If my guess is right, he can't keep looking indefinitely. Then, when they've had enough time to find us, we'll try and get back to New Valarak - something really needs to be done about Bogavas and his crew!"

"Meanwhile, we'd better find a safer hiding place," added Galadria, risking a quick gaze back at the camp they had just escaped from. "We're still too close to Bogavas for my liking . . ."

Arzon was about to assume his Eagle form and fly off to scout round when Galadria raised her hand. "Wait, Arzon - I'm not sure that's a wise move. Eagles aren't native to this area so, if you're seen, _they_'ll know where we are."

* * *

It did not take long for Bogavas to notice the loose chains. Several sets of manacles had been picked open and were now trailing loosely on the ground - a small discarded dagger that looked suspiciously like the one Vurus always carried revealed the cause, but he would deal with that later. Meanwhile . . .

"Turel! Gudd! Escaped prisoners!" he bellowed, summoning his two most senior slaver-monks.

"How many?" demanded Brother Turel, running over to see for himself.

"Seven altogether," replied Bogavas as he inspected the slaves to see who was still present, "including the three Spectral Knights. You two, take four slavers each and come with me - we must find them all. The rest of you, stay put until we get back."

Before he left with the ten chosen to help him in the hunt for the fugitives, Bogavas pulled Brother Vurus to one side and brandished the latter's dagger at him. "Do you know anything about this?" he demanded angrily. "It was on the ground near the slave-chain - and it looks like someone used it as a key . . ." He turned the dagger over to reveal a slight kink in the blade.

"I - I don't know nothing, Bogavas - honest!" Vurus stammered, aghast at the implication that he had been abetting an escape. "I . . ."

He was cut off abruptly as Bogavas levitated the dagger and sent it flying after its owner. The slaves roared with laughter at the site of Vurus trying to dodge the sharp blade, but Bogavas ignored them for once. He had more important things to do . . .

* * *

Towards mid-morning, Brother Gawonde returned from a scouting mission with important news.

"Have you sighted our young runaways?" asked Bogavas, mentally reeling off a list of punishments he would like to inflict once he'd caught up with them. Nobody who broke loose from his slave-chain had ever been allowed to get away with it and the seven who had escaped the previous night were not about to be the first.

"Even better - I saw Leoric and his party." Gawonde puffed up his chest, sure he would be due for plenty of praise for this piece of news.

"Where?" demanded Bogavas. He had expected Leoric to organise a search party to find his captive friends and Gawonde's words had just confirmed it.

"In a cave; they must have stopped there last night."

Bogavas grinned as a plan dawned on him. "Cave, eh?" he mused. "That gives me an idea - remember I said I wanted to stop the Spectral Knights from recapturing me?"

Gawonde led the rest of the party to the small cave carved out of the sloping sides of a valley and peered in. The interior was only dimly lit, but there was enough light for him to see that Leoric and his party were still inside - all that remained to be done was to seal the entrance. The slavers shifted a heap of rocks and soil until they had a fair-sized pile perched directly over the entrance of the cave but out of sight of anyone who might venture out of it.

Bogavas calmly raised his hand and sent the whole pile crashing down in front of the cave's mouth, blocking out all light and air. The wizard grinned to himself - if the landslide hadn't killed his pursuers, it would not be long before they suffocated.

* * *

Directly opposite the cave, Feryl saw what had happened and hurried down the slope, half running, half sliding.

"I saw Leoric in there just before it happened," he explained when the others had joined him. "And I think I recognised Ectar and Cryotek. There were about six altogether, but I only got a glimpse of the others."

"Don't just stand there!" ordered Dagan as he struggled to heave a rock out of the way. "We've got to help them." He and Feryl set to work at the bottom of the rock-pile, with Galadria and Yilly digging further up. But they soon found that digging with their bare hands was much easier said than done - and the fact they were all weary from marching for hours at a time each day only added to the difficulty.

Pallenne sat atop a huge boulder and sighed. "It's no use - what can we do against all this? It'll take ages to move all these stones."

As usual, Arzon was not about to admit defeat. He strode over to Pallenne and helped her to her feet. "It doesn't matter how long it takes, Pallenne," he told the dispirited little girl. "Leoric's in there, so we've got to keep trying."

* * *

In the darkened cave, Leoric groped around until his fingers closed around the handle of a Power Staff. But, with no light to see by, it was difficult to tell whose it was, so he started enquiring after his companions to make sure they were also unscathed.

"Are any of you hurt?"

Five voices replied as one; no-one had suffered any serious injuries, although Atla, who had been nearest the entrance when the rocks fell, had briefly been knocked unconscious.

"Good," Leoric said, relieved, his leadership skills telling him that it would be better to avoiding dwelling on escape plans for the time being. "Atla, there's tinder in the far corner and the flints are beside it. Try to get a torch lit - I'm starting to know how a bat feels."

"Not a very good idea, Leoric," said Gawalar. "Haven't you noticed there's no air supply in here? If we light a torch, all we'll do is hasten our deaths."

"Aye," added Witterquick, who stood resting his back against the wall of the cave. "Why do I get the feeling Bogavas was behind this?"

* * *

Outside the cave, things were not going well for the escapees either as they struggled vainly to free their trapped friends. Feryl lost his temper as a rock slid into the gap made by one he had just moved for the umpteenth time and turned on the person nearest to him - Galadria.

"Cut it out, Feryl!" she protested as a well-thrown handful of gravel sprayed around her ears.

"Well you watch where you're digging!" countered Feryl.

"It wasn't my fault . . ." Galadria tried to say.

"That's enough, you two!" snapped Dagan, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "Arguing among ourselves won't get your friends out any quicker."

"Up here!" called Bogavas' voice. "I've got those two little maidens!" The companions turned to see the wizard stood at the top of the slope with Gawonde and Gudd flanking him. Pallenne and Yilly were pinned under the slaver-monks' arms; both girls had been seized while their older friends were distracted by the pile of rubble and were too busy to notice their absence.

Bogavas saw Galadria bend down to pick up a rock and thought fast. Swifter than the eye could see, he whipped out his strange spiked weapon and aimed it at the back of Feryl's neck. "Drop the rock, lady!" he ordered. "None of you young upstarts make a move, or I'll do the same to your friend as I did to the men who tried to thwart me in New Valarak. Remember - this thing never misses."

Feryl's eyes welled up with fear, but he kept his voice as level as possible. "Arzon, fly Galadria away from here!" he ordered. "Alert the guards at New Valarak - tell them to bring help!"

Bogavas smirked. "Go on - do as he says," the wizard gloated. "After I've killed him, I'll kill the two of you! To wipe out the Spectral Knights so quickly would . . ."

In a flash, Feryl's human form disappeared and a Wolf dashed towards the slope growling defiantly. But Bogavas was ready for such a move and waved his hand just as Feryl was poised to spring on him.

A purple forcefield surrounded the young shapeshifter, levitating him into the air as his dumbstruck friends looked on. "Feryl!" shouted Arzon, transforming into an Eagle and flying at the slavers. Within seconds, he too was trapped in a forcefield, unable even to fly away.

Galadria considered her options - her Dolphin Totem only functioned in water, but, even if it didn't, she could see that Bogavas could trap any Visionary who shapeshifted in his presence. Besides, Dagan and Fletchen had no magical powers at all.

"All right, Bogavas!" she called up. "We surrender - just don't harm Arzon and Feryl."

"So be it," Bogavas said, cancelling his spell and sending Arzon and Feryl plummeting down in their human forms. "After all, I've already gotten rid of Leoric - and buried him with his Power Staff."

* * *

Hours passed in the enclosed cave with still no sign of a way out. One by one, the rescuers began to succumb to the lack of air - until only Cryotek and Ectar remained fully conscious, hardly daring to speak in case it depleted the air supply still further.

Ectar sat with his back to the sealed entrance, cursing himself for failing to question Bogavas's motives for kidnapping Galadria, Arzon and Feryl. The answer now appeared all too obvious - it was a trap to lure Leoric and his followers into danger and ensure his freedom from the Wizards' Jail. Clearly, once the Spectral Knights were dead or enslaved, there would be no-one left who was brave enough to recapture him.

A sudden chink of light cut through Ectar's train of thought - unknown to them, someone had been working to dig the Spectral Knights, Gawalar and Atla out of their prison. A woman's voice called:

"Is everyone alive in there? How many are there?"

"Six of us, Camara!" Ectar shouted back. "But I'm not sure if we've all survived!"

"So, you know her - do you?" Cryotek remarked, stopping himself when he recalled the scolding Galadria had given him for his teasing comments about Leoric's "conquest" of Fletchen. He had always been fond of the young woman, whose skill at mediating in many ways complemented his brisker nature. She also brought out his protective instincts when nothing else could.

"I ought to," Ectar replied. "She's Leoric's sister - the question is, how did she know about us?"

"Tartha told me," Camara said, evidently overhearing Ectar's remark.

"Tartha?"

"The local prophetess. This morning, she went into one of her trances and told me Leoric was in danger - he was trapped with five others." While Camara spoke, the rest of the rescuers managed to break through the last of the rocks and entered the cave. "Tell me," she called to a man who knelt beside Leoric, "does my brother live?"

"Aye," the man replied. "Looks like we broke through just in time - another half-hour or so and I doubt any of them would have made it."

* * *


	5. Friend Or Foe

**

Friend Or Foe

**

"So, how are things in New Valarak?" asked Camara as Leoric and his party sat in her living room, recovering after their ordeal in the cave. She seldom saw Leoric these days; his duties as a Spectral Knight meant he rarely had time to make social calls.

Leoric sighed, wondering where to begin, how to explain the events that had landed himself and his companions in a sealed cave. "The city thrives," he said at last. "But I fear the Spectral Knights are in danger - three of our number have been enslaved."

"Darkstorm!" Camara practically spat the word out, her deep green eyes blazing angrily. She only knew the Darkling Lords by reputation, but she had never cared for what she did know and she was grateful she and her young family lived far enough from New Valarak to, hopefully, avoid becoming caught up in one of the Darkling Lords' schemes.

"No - it wasn't Darkstorm this time," Leoric replied before telling her the whole story up until the cave rescue. "We were warned," he concluded. "Galadria, Arzon and Feryl must not even glimpse the Crystals of Power and the only way I can be sure they won't is to rescue them before Bogavas gets them to the Lost Shrine."

"But it's at least two weeks' journey from here," Camara objected. "And, if Bogavas has a head start on you . . ."

"Camara," Leoric interjected, crossing the room and resting his hand on her shoulder, "I swore the very day they were taken that I would not give up searching - and I intend to keep that promise."

Camara looked at him understandingly; even as a child, Leoric had never been one to stand by and let others suffer - like the time he had taken on three school bullies single-handed. She considered telling the others about it but decided not to, although she still smiled when she recalled the black eye one of the young thugs had received.

"I know you will," she said at last, feeling in her heart that Leoric would succeed in his mission - or perish trying. "And I wish you luck. I'd join you, but I've got two children to think of - I can't take the chance that nothing will happen to me on this mission . . ."

Atla understood Camara's dilemma; the decision to leave her sons with their father in order to search for Yilly had not been easy. Like mothers everywhere, the two women instinctively wanted to protect their offspring in the only ways they knew how. "You must do what you feel is right," Atla said. "Our children's futures may . . ."

"No," Camara said, shaking her head. "I'm not a fighter like Leoric - my place is here."

* * *

The escaped prisoners were back on the slave-chain, all seven of them in varying states of dejection following the ill-fated attempt to rescue Leoric and his party. Even the normally irrepressible Arzon sat staring rigidly ahead, preoccupied by his thoughts. He was beginning to wonder if Bogavas might have planned this all along, if capturing himself and the others who had been taken from New Valarak was part of a clever scheme to lure Leoric into danger.

"Arzon?" Pallenne's voice cut through the young knight's sombre reverie. "Do you think it's true - what Bogavas said?"

Arzon sighed heavily. "I don't know, Pallenne," he told her, wishing he knew for definite that his fellow Spectral Knights were alive. But, for the life of him, he couldn't see how they could have escaped from the cave, in which case . . . "If it is, it means we're on our own."

"I never knew Leoric," Dagan added, looking down at his manacled hands as he spoke. "But, from what you've told me, he was a brave fighter - my father would have liked him and the rest of your friends."

"Aye," Galadria said. "They can't have survived this long - not without fresh air. I - I just can't help wishing we could have done more to help them," she added, wringing her hands helplessly. She gazed at the sky and tried to get her mind off the events of the day, events that had evidently left herself, Arzon and Feryl the last survivors among the Spectral Knights.

"Wishing won't bring them back," said Arzon, staring down at the ground. "But at least they . . . " He broke off as he glanced in Feryl's direction and noticed that the young knight's blue eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "Feryl, are you all right? Only I know how close you and Leoric were."

Feryl, his voice choking with emotion and wishing desperately that he could find somewhere to grieve in private, tried to reply but he broke down before he could complete his sentence. Arzon, feeling a pang of empathy for his grief-stricken friend, drew Feryl towards him and they clung to each other, Feryl resting his tear-stained face on Arzon's shoulder - united in their sense of loss. The others tried to avert their eyes to give Arzon and Feryl the only privacy possible while they were all chained together, but it wasn't easy - those who had been captured from New Valarak were grieving themselves and even Dagan and Yilly were feeling the emotional turmoil of the day's events.

At length, Galadria's voice cut through the gloomy atmosphere. "Wait," she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could muster. "They haven't killed Leoric's ideals, have they? And, as long as Arzon, Feryl and I live, we will try to uphold them - for all our friends."

"I - I guess you're right," Feryl said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "The question is - how? In case you've forgotten, we're prisoners again."

"We can start by taking the Pledge," replied Galadria, recalling the day when, imprisoned in Darkstorm's cells, Leoric had rallied his followers and named them the Spectral Knights. Now that Leoric and half his followers were - she hesitated to use the D word - gone, it was up to the three who remained to keep alive what he stood for.

"The Pledge - what's that?" Yilly asked, overhearing the two Spectral Knights talking.

"You'll soon see," Feryl told her with a slight smile on his face, his emotions back under control.

The seven companions gathered round in a circle, each stretching their right hand out as far as the chains would allow. At a nod from Feryl, they drew back their hands and shouted in unison:

"May the Light shine forever!"

"Oi, keep your voices down!" ordered Brother Turel. "You lot are in enough trouble as it is, so I suggest you keep quiet - or you know what you'll get." He waved his strap at them menacingly.

* * *

Leoric and his companions were, of course, very much alive and still on the trail of Bogavas. They knew that being trapped in the cave had cost them time, time the prisoners could ill afford to lose and meant to get back on their trail as soon as possible. But, right now, they had come across a more familiar enemy . . .

"Leoric, we've got company," Ectar whispered as seven other knights, their weapons drawn ready to attack, surrounded their party. Ectar grinned as he recognised his old adversary from the Age of Science skulking at the rear of the group.

"Reekon - what a pleasent surprise!" he said, his words laden with sarcasm. Then, before Reekon could retaliate, Ectar grabbed him and flung him against Lexor, sending both Darkling Lords sprawling on the ground. Seeing this, Darkstorm snarled angrily, strode over to his incompetent knights and hauled them to their feet.

"Don't just sit there, you fools!" he snapped. "Get on with the fight!" To emphasise his words, Darkstorm promptly gave Lexor a sharp kick and sent him sprawling - directly in front of Cryotek, who had his bola poised to attack within moments.

A free-for-all quickly erupted as Spectral Knights and Darkling Lords attacked each other with weapons and the wide ends of Power Staffs. Even Gawalar and Atla, armed with only their bare fists, managed to get a few blows in.

As he parried attacks from Cravex, Leoric saw Mortdredd, Darkstorm's chief lackey and well-known for blindly following his leader's every order, sneaking up behind Atla and thought so fast that his next move was almost instinctive. Shouting, "Atla, watch out!" he swung his whip, coiling it round the Darkling Lord's ankle so that he tripped when he attempted to move. Leoric then gave a surprised Cindarr a whack with his Power Staff and disarmed Virulina, who had been poised to attack from the side.

"Wait!"

All activity halted at the sudden shout from Darkstorm. The Darkling Lords stood waiting for their leader's orders, while the Spectral Knights wondered what had brought about this turn of events. Darkstorm, being a textbook megalomaniac, rarely did anything unless there was something in it for him.

"What are they doing?" whispered Ectar, who had just pinned Reekon to the ground and was holding him down with his foot.

"Your guess is as good as mine," replied Leoric. "It's not like Darkstorm to . . . In any case, I think we'd better at least hear what he's got to say."

* * *

"Well, Leoric," Darkstorm said to his long-time rival, his voice deceptively soft as he gazed round at his enemies. "I can't help thinking something's wrong here - aren't there supposed to be seven Spectral Knights?"

"Mind your own business!" snapped Cryotek, who had no patience with Darkling Lords at the best of times. But Leoric silenced him with a frown and turned to address Darkstorm himself.

"Actually, we were looking for our colleagues," he explained. "The wizard Bogavas has them and . . ."

Cindarr spoke next, his words as usual betraying the fact that he had more muscles than brains. "Bogavas?" he said questioningly, scratching the back of his head. "But he passed Merklynn's honesty test . . ."

"He deceived us!" Ectar said bitterly, dismissing for the moment the question of how Cindarr - who had not been present when Merklynn carried out the test - could know about it.

"It's not just Galadria, Arzon and Feryl who are in danger," Leoric explained. "Unless we stop Sanofainus, no Prysmosian's life will be worth living."

"Wait a moment!" Darkstorm shot back, unfamiliar with the situation the Spectral Knights were in and, as always, not in the mood for lengthy explanations. "A second ago it was Bogavas - now it's Sanofainus. Which is it?"

"Both," Leoric replied. "Bogavas works for Sanofainus - as a slave trader. And, from what I've been able to figure out, Sanofainus needs slaves in order to obtain the Crystals of Power."

"And if Sanofainus succeeds?"

"I dread to think of the consequences - not only to us but to all Prysmosians." As he spoke, Leoric thought of the harrowing scenes Merklynn had shown, of the young Prysmosians imprisoned in a living nightmare with no hope of escaping alive. Unless the slaves were freed before all the Crystals had been found, he knew everything he and the other Spectral Knights had fought so hard to protect would be lost - irretrievably.

Darkstorm and his followers broke off for a whispered conference, from which Darkstorm emerged with a surprising announcement.

"Leoric, we have long been enemies," he said in the disarming tone he always adopted when trying to win people round to his latest scheme. "But now it appears we face a bigger foe - therefore, I suggest we put our differences aside and pool our resources." But, as he spoke, he gave a secret signal to Cravex; Darkstorm had no intention of keeping his word.

But, under their current circumstances, the Spectral Knights knew they had no choice but to go along with their enemies . . .

* * *

Dagan sat up with a start when he heard the harsh screeching of a phylot. One of the fierce pterodactyl-like creatures was circling the camp, almost as if it was looking for something. But what could it want? Dagan knew phylots could be extremely dangerous - many farmers in known phylot areas had lost stock to the creatures - and twenty chained humans would present the perfect unmoving target.

"Feryl," he whispered, reaching forward and shaking the young knight. "Feryl, wake up!"

"Huh - what?" Feryl mumbled before rolling over. Dagan responded by shaking him harder.

"Feryl!" he shouted. "Arzon," he added, turning to Feryl's fellow Spectral Knight, "help me out here. We could be in for trouble." He nodded towards the phylot, now circling directly overhead and casting a shadow over the group of young slaves.

Arzon leaned closer to Feryl and emitted a piercing whistle, a trick which soon had Feryl sitting bolt upright, holding his ringing ear. Even the others were woken and Galadria, realising what had happened, promptly rounded on Dagan and Arzon. "That was a stupid thing to do - you know how sensitive Feryl's hearing is," she told them. "What's going on anyway?"

"Well I had to wake you up somehow," retorted Dagan. "There's a phylot flying around."

Feryl had recovered from the initial shock - he had learned to filter out the extra stimuli his heightened senses perceived - and sat watching the creature as it came in to land. It was then that he realised what it was . . .

"That is no ordinary phylot," he said at last.

Dagan and Yilly looked at him blankly. "Well, if it's not a phylot, what _is_ it?" demanded Yilly, her eyes wide with fear.

"Cravex," Feryl replied grimly. "And that probably means the rest of the Darkling Lords are nearby."

* * *

Following Darkstorm's instructions - given while the Spectral Knights were safely out of earshot - Cravex had flown for the greater part of the night in search of Bogavas' party. It was unusual for any Visionary to voluntarily spend so long in animal form, but Cravex kept himself going with the thought that, once Bogavas knew Leoric was alive, the wizard would willingly lead the Spectral Knights into Darkstorm's trap.

"Bogavas, a knight wants to see you," said Brother Galm, approaching the wizard with Cravex following in his wake.

"Yes? Who are you and what do you want?" Bogavas demanded, none too pleased by the intrusion. He had hoped that, once he had "dealt with" the Leoric problem, he would be able to get his slaves to the Lost Shrine without any more interuptions.

"My name is Cravex - I'm a . . . messenger," the Darkling Lord replied, resisting the urge to set the Spider of Fear on the wizard - for one thing, he would more than likely need it later. "And what I'm about to say concerns the Spectral Knight, Leoric."

"Leoric?" Bogavas echoed as he saw his well-laid plans falling apart. "But I killed him myself - sealed him and his band of do-gooders into a cave."

"Obviously, you didn't do the job properly, because they got out - and they're still after you," Cravex informed him with an angry scowl on his face. "So the rest of the Darkling Lords and I came up with a plan - we will pretend to call a truce with the Spectral Knights. But, really, we'll be leading them to their doom in the Lost Shrine!"

Bogavas smiled to himself as he absorbed the ruthless knight's words. So what if Leoric and the others had escaped from the cave? There was more than one way to skin a Lion - and a Bear, Fox and Cheetah, if it came to that . . .

"Very well," he said at length. "When you get back to your group, tell them they'll be well rewarded once I've delivered these slaves to their destination."

* * *

Walking past the chained captives, Cravex could not resist stopping to gloat at the three Spectral Knights. Like most Darkling Lords, he took great delight in the misfortunes of others, especially if they happened to be Leoric's allies.

"Bet you're glad to hear your leader's alive," he smirked. "Well, you don't know the half of . . ."

Before Cravex could complete his mocking sentence, Feryl tripped him with his wrist manacles and held him down when he attempted to rise. "Fun's over, Cravex!" Feryl said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I want an honest answer from you - are the other Spectral Knights alive?"

"Aye," Cravex stammered, too stunned by Feryl's sudden move to fight back. "And their companions - a man and a woman."

"Where are they heading?" persisted Feryl, determined to make it clear that he wasn't through yet. But Arzon pulled him away before Cravex could reply.

"Let him go - at least we now know the others survived."

* * *


	6. Strangle Vines

**

Strangle Vines

**

The next few days were relatively uneventful for both parties, although the truce between Leoric and Darkstorm was far from easy. Most of the Darkling Lords could not see the logic behind Darkstorm's decision to join forces with Leoric, but they were too used to obeying orders to question it. Mortdredd, needless to say, was prepared to go along with Darkstorm no matter what grandiose scheme he came up with. But there were certain members of Darkstorm's camp who felt otherwise . . .

"I'm telling you, Lexor, I've had it!" Reekon muttered after another day spent on the trail of Bogavas. "Darkstorm claims we'll be rewarded handsomely for this mission - but with _what_?! All I know is that we're supposed to lead the Spectral Knights into some trap."

"Aye," Lexor said bitterly. On the surface, he and Mortdredd were very much alike, always fawning round Darkstorm and telling him what an honour it was to serve him, but, unlike Darkstorm's chief lackey, Lexor felt no real loyalty to his leader. Instead, he looked for every opportunity to undermine Darkstorm's authority and stir his fellows into rebellion - and it now looked like another chance was presenting itself.

"Reekon," Lexor whispered, "what if the two of us . . . went AWOL? Cleared off and took the Dagger Assault with us?"

"Oh yes? And where did you plan on going?" As usual, Lexor had been so wrapped up in his underhanded plans that he had neglected to make sure Darkstorm was out of earshot.

"N - nowhere, Darkstorm," Lexor stammered, flinching as he stared into his commander's ruthless eyes. "N - nowhere at all!"

"That's good to hear," Darkstorm said in his deceptively gentle voice. "And, since you don't plan on going anywhere, you can take a double shift on watch tonight. Reekon, you too - I will _not_ tolerate insubordination!"

A groan arose from both Darkling Lords, but Darkstorm ignored it and stationed himself where he could easily see Leoric's group, who were camped a little way from the Darkling Lords. Soon, he reminded himself, soon, Leoric and the others would walk right into his trap . . .

* * *

Bogavas too faced no major incidents - until his party entered the Forest of the Strangle Vines.

At first, it appeared to be an ordinary forest, if considerably spookier than most. But it soon became horribly clear that the trees harboured a secret, a secret so deadly that no life stirred in the undergrowth and no birds could be heard in the trees. It was as if the only living things for miles around were the twenty slaves and their escorts.

As they neared the heart of the Forest, Pallenne spotted a human skeleton, still partly clothed, lying almost directly in their path. It had evidently been there for some time - its garments had been reduced to a few rags, making it difficult to tell if the person had been male or female - and another, more recent, corpse dangled from a tree like a grotesque marionette. The latter's bulging eyes stared sightlessly as it swayed in the breeze and all the slaves had to fight to contain their revulsion.

"Who - who were they?" Pallenne breathed, terrified by what she had seen. "And what could have killed them?"

"I don't know," Feryl told her, ducking as he passed under a low branch. "But if anyone - any_thing_ - attacks us, we'll . . . Ow!"

A Vine as thick as a sapling whipped out and struck the young knight full on the chest, causing him to sit down abruptly from the impact and bringing the column of slaves crashing to a halt. Brother Vurus promptly ran over to investigate the cause of the delay, uncoiling his strap in anticipation of giving Feryl a severe whipping.

* * *

More Vines snaked out from the undergrowth and started wrapping themselves round slaves and slavers alike. Brother Vurus was their first victim; before he had time to realise what was happening, a deadly tendril was winding its way round his neck as he vainly struggled to get to his dagger. Pandemonium broke out as the entire group came under attack from their botanical foes - unable to outrun the Vines, all any of them could do was hold them back as long as possible.

Two Vines coiled round Feryl's ankles, immobilising him while a third slithered round his neck and began to choke the life out of him. Only Galadria, holding back one of the Vines with her manacles as she tried to shield Yilly, noticed his desperate plight.

"Feryl!" she shouted. "Stay calm - every move you make tightens the noose!"

But Feryl was already beyond struggling. The only thing he was aware of was the knowledge that the end was near, that he was facing the one foe no knight could vanquish. His last sight before blacking out was a hazy image of Arzon and Dagan trying to shield him from further attack . . .

Bogavas, meanwhile, had avoided the worst of the Vines and knew they were in a dangerous situation. He knew he shouldn't have brought the slaves into this forest, but the delay caused by the escape attempt had cost him time and this just happened to be a short-cut to the Lost Shrine. Even so, he could not afford to lose any of the slaves when they were so near - only a few days' journey from - their destination. He stepped forward and raised his hand.

"Retreat!" he commanded the Vines, which promptly began uncoiling themselves form their victims and retreated back into the trees ready to ambush the next band of unwary travellers. The wizard smiled with satisfaction as he neutralised the threat of the Vines - for the time being at least.

"That spell won't hold for long," he told the rest of his party. "Run for it - and don't stop until I do!"

For the slaves, it was difficult going; the chain hampered their movements and the fact that Feryl had to be helped by Arzon and Dagan added to the difficulty. But they all knew that, unless they got out of the forest fast, they would not be able to escape at all and it was Galadria who took charge of co-ordinating the group's movements.

"Keep in line and carry the chain between you!" she ordered. "And be careful not to trip or fall - if that happens, we've had it!"

* * *

Presently, Bogavas was satisfied that they were safely out of range of the Vines and gave the order to halt. Turel tethered the slaves to a tree while the rest of the slaver-monks struggled to get their breath back after their desperate flight from danger.

"Did we all make it?" asked Bogavas when Turel returned to the slaver-monks' camp. "Has everyone been accounted for?"

"Aye - all but Vurus," Turel replied. "He was already gone when you cast your spell."

Bogavas narrowed his eyes, in part grateful that the Vines had finished off his incompetant slaver. Ever since his dagger had been used to undo several sets of slave manacles, Brother Vurus had been decidedly out of favour where Bogavas was concerned. Sometimes, the wizard had wondered why he hadn't executed him there and then to give the rest of his followers a reminder of how he dealt with bunglers.

"Good - what about the slaves?" he asked after dismissing the news of Vurus' death.

"They're all alive, including Feryl - I made sure he was when I tethered them," Turel explained. "What _were_ those things anyway?"

"The Strangle Vines," Bogavas replied without looking up. But, even though Turel asked him several times, he refused to elaborate any further.

* * *

The first thing Feryl was aware of was the seemingly distant voices of his friends as he caught vague snatches of their conversation.

"Lucky we got out when we did," came Arzon's voice from somewhere to the left.

"I thought he'd had it for sure." That was Galadria, coming from the same direction but a little further away.

"Take it easy, Feryl," Dagan said as he examined his friend's neck. To his relief, there didn't seem to be any serious injuries and Feryl was breathing normally. "You're lucky to be . . ." Dagan broke off as he noticed Feryl starting to stir slightly and watched carefully while the young knight regained his senses.

"What's going on?" Feryl asked, struggling to sit up. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of sheer helplessness he had felt as the Vine began to crush his neck. "Those Vines - I thought I was done for . . ."

"We were all in trouble until Bogavas called them off," replied Fletchen. "But you'd already passed out and there wasn't time to wake you - we had to escape . . ." She paused and stared back at the deadly forest as if she was expecting one of the Vines to come snaking out of the trees in search of the victims it had been cheated of. "I just wish I knew what those things were," she added at length.

Arzon sighed and looked down at the ground - had this encounter happened under normal circumstances, the first thing he would have done was to consult the Bearer of Knowledge to try and find out what the Vines were and why they had attacked. But, as things stood right now, he had to rely on his own memory and so many strange and exotic things had emerged since the coming of the Age of Magic that it was difficult to keep track of them all.

"I think they might have been Strangle Vines," he told his friends. "I read about them in a book on magical plants and apparently they lie in wait for passing travellers and . . ."

"Strangle them," Pallenne added, her distaste obvious in her tone of voice. "Anyway, let's hope that's the last we'll see of that place."

* * *

Leoric and his party had no choice but to risk the Forest of the Strangle Vines; a map drawn up by Tartha the Prophetess showed it was on the most direct route to the Lost Shrine. Mortdredd and Cindarr had flown on ahead in the Sky-Claw, leaving the others either riding in the Dagger Assault or walking alongside. But, although those riding included two Spectral Knights, tensions remained high.

Towards mid-morning, Cryotek, who was among those walking, drew level with Leoric, one of the two Spectral Knights on board the Dagger Assault.

"Do you trust any of this mob?" asked Cryotek, gesturing round at the five Darkling Lords.

"No - but at least this will get us to the Lost Shrine quicker," Leoric replied. "Actually, it's not Darkling Lords that concern me right now, it's Strangle Vines - if Bogavas brought the slaves through here . . ." He left the sentence unfinished so that Cryotek could draw the inference himself.

"I just hope all our friends escaped if they were attacked," remarked Cryotek. "Especially Galadria . . ."

"I feel the same about Fletchen," Leoric told him, hoping that his worst fears would not be realised, that the search for his captive friends would not end with the discovery of their corpses. "Anyway . . ."

"Look! Look over there!"

Lexor's shout cut off further conversation as everyone turned to see the body of Brother Vurus propped against a tree, his face contorted and his neck bruised, a sure sign of death from strangulation. A more grotesque sight than Vurus' bulging eyes staring out but seeing nothing as his cold fingers grasped the hilt of his dagger was hard to imagine and there were few on Prysmos who would want to witness this. But the Darkling Lord had been trying Cryotek's patience all day, and this was the last straw.

"What are you shouting about?" he demanded impatiently, striding over to the cowardly knight.

Lexor, his hand trembling visibly despite obvious attempts to control it, pointed to the dead slaver-monk and the other bodies - the ones which Pallenne had seen. "D - dead bodies!" he stammered. "It's a warning - we've got to go back!"

Cryotek responded by prodding Vurus's body with the tip of his Power Staff, causing it to topple over. "Dead bodies never harmed anyone," he said dismissively. "Now stow the doom-mongering and . . ."

Before Cryotek had chance to react, a Strangle Vine weaved its way up his Power Staff and wrenched it from his grasp. At the sight of the deadly constricting plant, Lexor - never a brave fighter at the best of times - gave way to panic and, with an anguished yell, made a dash for the trees. But he hadn't gone far before Darkstorm pounced and hauled him back, glaring angrily at the knight he had come to see as his least reliable minion.

"Don't go running off anywhere, fool!" he spat. "We're under attack - so use your Power Staff to protect us!"

As much as Lexor was afraid of the Strangle Vines, he was more afraid of Darkstorm and pulled out his Staff ready to activate it.

"The arrows turn, the swords rebel  
May nothing pierce this mortal shell!"

he chanted, holding the Staff at arm's length. Within seconds, a humanoid figure was hovering above the group projecting a forcefield over them, a barrier inpenetrable by either magical or physical attack. Every time a Strangle Vine tried to claim a victim, it was instantly repelled by the energy field around the Dagger Assault and those nearby. But the effect only lasted for a few seconds and, when the Power of Invulnerability wore off, the Vines renewed their deadly work.

* * *

Virulina sliced at one of the Vines with the vicious-looking knife she used for weaponry, only to find that it regrew instantly no matter how many times she hacked at it. "These - things - are - everywhere!" she gasped as she backed away, her weapon still drawn. Unfortunately, she moved a little too quickly and failed to notice the Vine that was winding itself round her ankle - until it pitched her over onto her back. In the process, she dropped her weapon . . .

Leoric wrenched himself away from the Vine which restrained his arm and sized up the situation. They were sitting targets - the Vines seemed to have an intelligence of their own, enough to enable them to outguess their victims. Unless . . .

"Try your Power Staff, Darkstorm!" he shouted.

Loath as Darkstorm was to act on any suggestion from a Spectral Knight, he could see no other choice if he and the rest of the Darkling Lords were to get out of this. Holding the Staff at arm's length, he recited the rhyme which activated it:

"By what creeps, what crawls, by what does not,  
Let all that grows recede and rot."

Within moments, a strange winged animal was flying around searching out Strangle Vines, which instantly withered and died as it touched them. One by one, the menacing Vines were reduced to mould, completing in seconds a process of decay that would normally have taken several weeks and ensuring that these at least would not menace any more travellers. And, even though some tried to attack Darkstorm's Demon of Decay as if it was any other creature, a Power Staff entity was not the same as a living organism . . .

* * *

As the last of the Strangle Vines wilted under Darkstorm's Power of Decay, Leoric began to marshall the group together.

"All right - if you've dropped a weapon or a Power Staff, grab it and get on the Dagger Assault!" he ordered after casting around to make sure no Vines were still lurking nearby. "Reekon, full speed ahead until we get out of this place - we can't take the chance that those things won't attack again!"

"What next?" he thought out loud as, with Reekon driving the Dagger Assault at full throttle, the group made their escape from the Forest of the Strangle Vines. It was a place none of them ever wanted to set foot in again if they could avoid it.

* * *


	7. The Lost Shrine

**

The Lost Shrine

**

Tension pervaded among the slaves, many of whom could sense an anxiety in their captors. They staggered on long after dark, walking across a barren wasteland littered with rocks, and only stopped for brief respites - when it suited Bogavas, which was seldom. It was consequently not surprising that Pallenne, exhausted and barely able to concentrate on where she was going, should stumble and fall against Dagan.

"Whoa - steady on there," he told her, catching her under her arms. "I'm sure we'll stop sooner or later."

Pallenne picked herself up, ran her fingers through her tangled dark hair and sighed loudly. "I hope so, Dagan," she said, her voice heavy with weariness. "I don't think I can take much more of this - we haven't rested properly for two days now."

Feryl overheard what Pallenne said and understood how she must be feeling. "Listen, we're all exhausted," he told the others. "But it probably means we're near wherever we're going and something tells me it won't be pleasent. So keep an eye out for a chance to escape and . . ."

Galadria sighed inwardly. Feryl could be rather headstrong at times, but now was not the time for foolhardy actions.

"Feryl, forget it," she said. "Remember what happened last time? If we escape again, we'll only get ourselves killed - what would that achieve?"

Feryl knew Galadria was right, that - if they hadn't surrendered outside the cave - Bogavas would have thrown his spiked weapon and they would not be having this conversation. But that did nothing to quell his feeling of unease, the overwhelming dread of what he and the other slaves would be used for once they reached their destination - the best he could do was try to avoid thinking about it.

"I guess it wouldn't achieve anything," he said at last. "Leoric's our best hope now . . ." He paused as he remembered the terrifying encounter with the Strangle Vines. " . . . if he survived that forest."

"Wait!" Pallenne called. "What's that tree over there?"

The others turned to look in the direction she was pointing - sure enough a solitary tree grew on the horizon, the only vegetation visible for miles around. Galadria, Arzon and Feryl eyed it with unease as all three recalled the last time they had seen that particular tree.

"The Lost Shrine," Arzon said, finding his voice. "But - but Leoric destroyed its magic."

"Aye," Feryl added. "What does Bogavas want with a defunct Shrine?"

* * *

He soon found out. While the slaves slept that night, a column of black-clad men emerged from beneath an unusually large boulder next to the strange tree and surrounded them. A short distance away, Bogavas greeted their leader and prepared to hand the slaves over to their new masters.

"How many did you bring this time, Bogavas?" demanded the bald man with a dagger-and-heart tattooed on his scalp.

"Twenty in total, Kromos," Bogavas replied. "Eleven males and nine females - all young and ready to work until they drop."

Kromos frowned slightly; according to his notes, Bogavas had brought twenty-six back from his last slaving expedition. Still, twenty was a reasonably good haul and Sanofainus was planning to send the wizard out again in a few days' time. In the meantime . . .

"Bring your gang into the Shrine, Bogavas," he instructed. "My army will see to the slaves."

Feryl was jerked awake as one of the men in black unclipped the fastener that kept him attached to the slave-chain and roughly hauled him upright. Half-asleep, the young knight looked around in bewilderment, wondering who the men in black were and what they were doing. Something about them set Feryl on edge and he would have attempted to break away from them had he not been outnumbered by three to one. The nearest guard leaned closer to whisper in Feryl's ear.

"Do not resist - do not make a sound," he warned him in a harsh voice that made it clear any attempt to fight the strangers would be a serious (and possibly fatal) mistake.

* * *

Once all the slaves had been removed from the chain, Kromos ordered six of his soldiers to pick it up and take it inside until it was needed again. Holding a lantern above his head, he led the way, escorting the twenty young prisoners through the secret entrance that he and his army had used to make their sudden appearance.

The corridor was just wide enough to allow three people to walk abreast, but the torches placed on the wall brackets at intervals gave scant illumination and threw up terrifying shadows. Even so, the three Spectral Knights were able to see just how much the Lost Shrine had changed since their previous visit. Back then, it had housed a magical zoo whose guards had seized the Visionaries as they shapeshifted and flung them into cages, a fate which only Leoric - warned by the Owl of Wisdom - had avoided. But all that was gone now - replaced, they would soon learn, by something far more sinister.

From somewhere in the distance came the sounds of endless chinking and clattering interspersed by voices, the words inaudible, and the occasional swishing sound that sounded suspiciously like a whip being cracked. "What is going on down here?" Fletchen asked in an awed whisper, but the others were equally puzzled.

"Quiet, wench!" ordered one of the guards escorting her. "Another word out you and you'll feel my cat!" He patted the nine-stranded whip in his belt and grinned evilly.

* * *

The source of the noises became clear when they reached the centre of the underground kingdom. This consisted of what had once been the Shrine's inner sanctum, a vast room lit by flickering torches which also served as the private living quarters of Sanofainus, the future Master of Prysmos - or at least he believed he would be. An altar had been placed in a prominent position, ready to house the Crystals that were hidden somewhere deep in the Lost Shrine.

Sanofainus was a tall imposing man in late middle-age with greying brown hair and cold grey eyes and, even though he was mortal, his garments were reminiscent of those typically worn by wizards. He wore a long royal-blue gown with a black cape over it, the latter fastened at the neck with a buckle shaped like a phylot's head. In fact, if it hadn't been for the lack of any magical paraphernalia of the sort Merklynn kept at Iron Mountain, Galadria, Arzon and Feryl might have assumed that he was indeed a wizard.

"Take them to the window," he ordered Kromos after the slaves had been forced to kneel before him. "Let them see those who already seek the Crystals of Power."

A long spiral staircase led down to the workings where ragged slaves, some as young as six years old, laboured endlessly, even though most were clearly exhausted. The reason for their constant labour in the face of fatigue soon became horribly clear - the overseers were all armed with cat-o'-nine-tails, which they used at the slightest provocation or at no provocation at all. At one point, a chain-gang of four maidens slipped and fell as they struggled to haul a wheeled sledge piled with broken rocks. The slavers lashed at them, but one young woman did not get up; she had found the one escape route from this realm of nightmare.

"See, my slaves," Sanofainus said, joining his prisoners. "Now you must join them and . . ."

Feryl, realising what Sanofainus meant and deciding that he was having none of it, broke free from the guards who restrained him and turned on the tyrant. "You're drunk!" he said with barely controlled disgust. "Drunk on power - I know your sort! Well - thanks but no thanks; as a Spectral Knight I can't do anything that aids evil!"

Sanofainus locked eyes with the defiant youth. "I'm afraid, you impudent whelp," he said in a deceptively calm voice, "that you are not in a position to say what you will and will not do." With that, he nodded to Kromos, who stepped back a pace and flailed his cat-o'-nine-tails hard against Feryl's back. Feryl didn't even flinch, not wanting to give Sanofainus the satisfaction.

"Kromos?" Sanofainus said once the slaves had been led down to the workings. "That young man, the knight who spoke out - I've been trying to think of his name."

"According to Bogavas, he's called Feryl," replied Kromos.

"Well have . . . Feryl watched - he's obviously a troublemaker," Sanofainus ordered before dismissing his second-in command. No-one had ever been allowed to get away with crossing him in his underground realm before and, knight or not, Feryl was not going to be the first.

* * *

The eleven Visionaries plus Gawalar and Atla had stopped off at the Fullmoon Inn. The small tavern with a painting of a full moon over the door was a popular meeting place among the inhabitants of Dalevore, a small town located less than a mile from the Lost Shrine. Or at least it had been - tonight the only other customers were an old woman and two men playing cards in the far corner. The innkeeper and his wife both moved with hunched shoulders as if they were grieving for something.

"So you've come to confront Sanofainus," said the innkeeper's wife, whose name was Zarla. "I've been wondering when someone would . . ."

"Just who is Sanofainus?" asked Cryotek as he leaned across the bar. "I've heard the name before, but I was very young then."

"Sanofainus is scum!" Zarla spat, her dislike of the name obvious in her voice. "About twenty years ago he had this . . . racket going - he embezzled hundreds of companies. Then, when the police got on his tail, he just disappeared and was never heard of again."

"Until now," Ectar added, recalling that the case had still been open at the time of the Cataclysm.

"As if I need reminding!" Zarla said bitterly as she paced up and down. "Nearly eight months ago, he and his thugs rode into town and carried off every young person they could find. And that includes my own son and daughter-in-law, who had been married barely a year . . . They were only _nineteen_ years old!" she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

Atla understood the woman's pain; since losing Yilly to Bogarvis, she had never been entirely able to shake her fears for her safety. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I lost my own daughter too - so I know how you must feel, never knowing if they're alive or not . . ."

Zarla looked at her, a slightly ironic smile on her face. "You don't get it, do you?" she said bitterly. "Ubon was - I hope he still is - my only child. I was so happy when he wed Ranita - and then . . . those _brutes_ had to come along and ruin everything! I - I . . ." She threw up her hands, unable to continue.

There didn't appear to be any family in Dalevore, or any any other town that Leoric and his party had passed through since reaching the Anarchy Zone, who had not lost anyone to Sanofainus. Dalevore was a town devoid of youth; those young people not captured in the first raid had either been seized during subsequent attacks or had fled with their families. Leoric's determination to do something was evident in his words as he took up position in the centre of the room to explain their mission.

"People of Dalevore," he announced, raising his Power Staff as he spoke. "My companions and I came here with two objectives - to free those who have been enslaved and put an end to Sanofainus once and for all. It will not be easy, but we _will_ try - this is my solemn promise."

"Aye!" Witterquick shouted, leaping onto a table. "Down with Sanofainus!"

But it was that night that Darkstorm chose to play his hidden ace. Excusing himself, he beckoned to Mortdredd and the two withdrew to where they were less likely to be overheard.

* * *

How long he had been toiling underground was something Feryl could not guess at. He could see Dagan, Pallenne and Yilly working elsewhere at the rock-face - all three had been attached to different chain-gangs - but none of the slaves were allowed to leave their work stations or even speak to those on other chain-gangs. Arzon, who had been assigned to pushing wheelbarrows, approached Feryl's group at intervals, but the two knights dared not speak to each other; they had already been beaten for doing so.

Exhausted from lack of sleep and overwork, he moved like an automaton, methodically taking rocks from his neighbour - a youth named Jonitrus - and placing them into the wheelbarrow parked next to him. Then something happened to snap him out of his zombie-like state.

It occurred just as one wheelbarrow-pusher left Feryl's chain-gang and the next, a young dark-haired woman in faded brown trousers and a red blouse, hauled her barrow towards them. She was barely ten feet away when she collapsed from exhaustion, sending the nearest guard hurrying over, his cat-o'-nine-tails raised ready to punish her. Seeing the bully about to beat the defenceless maiden was all it took to arouse Feryl's defensive instincts. Without stopping to think of the consequences, he hurled a rock at the guard's head, knocking him unconscious, and, dragging the rest of the chain-gang with him, ran to check on the fallen woman.

"Are you all right?" Feryl whispered as he knelt beside her. "Can you get up?"

She groaned slightly but managed to stagger to her feet. "I think so," she mumbled groggily. "But we'd better get back to work before . . ."

"What's going on over here?" It was Kromos himself come to investigate the cause of the disruption. "Why aren't you at your work station?"

Feryl adopted an air of nonchalance as he made up an excuse. "Oh, she . . ." He nodded towards the young woman. " . . . looked a bit tired, so I thought I'd just check she was all right."

"That so?" Kromos said sceptically as he recognised Feryl as the one Sanofainus had warned him to watch. "Then maybe you'd like a double dose of the cat - I assume you're the one who knocked that guard out."

* * *

"Thanks, mate," said the young woman once Kromos had stalked off in search of more trouble. "No-one's ever stood up to Kromos like that before."

"What else could I do?" replied Feryl as he loaded her barrow. "And _don't_ call me "mate" - my name is Feryl."

"Sorry . . . Feryl," she corrected herself with a wry smile. "I'm called Casiusa, but you can call me Cassie."

"I think Casiusa suits you better," Feryl told her as he studied her closely. She appeared to be around his own age, or a little younger, and her hazel eyes held a mischievous look that belied the hardship she had endured as a slave in the Lost Shrine. "What's going on down here, anyway?" he added, hoping she might be able to provide some answers, some information on what Sanofainus thought was so important he had to make goodness only knew how many slaves dig for it.

"We're supposed to dig for the Seven Crystals of Power that were hidden here in the First Age of Magic - or so they say," Casiusa replied. "Sanofainus - he's the one who dresses like a wizard, even though he's not - has this thing about getting hold of them so he can become Master of Prysmos . . ."

"Sounds like a real megalomaniac," Feryl remarked. "I bet Darkstorm . . ."

Before Feryl could complete his sentence, a guard caught him with his cat-o'-nine-tails, putting the full force of his arm behind the blow and knocking the Spectral Knight sprawling. Then, before Feryl could pick himself up, he gave Casiusa the same treatment. "What have you been told about talking?!" he demanded harshly.

* * *

Using his Beetle Totem, Mortdredd had managed to slip into the Lost Shrine undetected - now all he had to do was deliver Darkstorm's message to Sanofainus. Rounding a corner in his human form, he managed to crash straight into Brother Turel, who had been on his way to a meeting with Sanofainus. Hopefully, the slaver-monk thought, this meant rewards or even promotion for successfully delivering the new workers. For now, though, he had an intruder to deal with.

"Who on Prysmos are you?" he demanded as he stood with his strap raised.

Mortdredd seemed taken aback for a moment but answered in his usual servile tone. "I bring a message from the mighty Lord Darkstorm," he explained. "He wanted me to deliver it in person, which of course I was only too pleased to do." Even though Darkstorm was not present, Mortdredd made sure to emphasise what a pleasure it was to carry out his orders. It did not matter what menial task the Darkling Lords' leader came up with, his chief lackey was invariably the first to volunteer.

"Tell me your master's message and be on your way!" ordered Turel, annoyed at the delay. He was supposed be having an audience with Sanofainus momentarily and did not want to incur his wrath by being late. 

Mortdredd held a scroll above his head. "Sorry," he said with a triumphant smirk on his face. "Darkstorm said this was for Sanofainus's eyes only; it says so on the back. But perhaps you'd like to deliver it for me - I'll wait here until you let me know what Sanofainus has to say."

* * *

Sanofainus read through Darkstorm's message with mounting fury that someone - _anyone_ - would seek to scupper his well-laid plans. Then, regaining his composure, he rolled the scroll back up and calmly burnt it on one of the flaming torches that lit his quarters.

"So?" he smiled wickedly, staring into the flames. "Some upstart knight thinks he can defeat me, does he? Well, Leoric - or whatever your name is - I think _you're_ the one who'll be defeated, you and your band of meddlers."

He watched as the paper was reduced to ash and vowed to let nothing which stood in the way of his plans for world domination live.

* * *


	8. Infiltration

**

Infiltration

**

Galadria and Fletchen - along with around two-dozen other slaves, both male and female - had been assigned to one of the most difficult tasks in the underground kingdom - breaking rocks. The strenuous nature of the task, which involved smashing sledge-hammers down on rocks brought by the wheelbarrow-pushers, meant children were rarely assigned to it - it was bad enough for adults. Forcing herself to continue despite her aching arms, Galadria attempted to joke with Fletchen.

"They haven't really thought things out very well down here, have they?" she remarked with an ironic smile. "I bet Cryotek could get through this lot in half the time it takes us."

But Fletchen was not in the mood for banter, especially after everything that had happened today. She had not seen Feryl, Dagan, Pallenne or Yilly since they arrived in the workings and had been led away to their various tasks. And, even though Arzon's wheelbarrow-hauling meant he had contact with both areas, so far it had been impossible to speak to him without the guards overhearing. In addition, Delven's taunting of her on the first day of her captivity - glibly informing her that Gleering was dead - had been preying on Fletchen's mind all day. Somehow, she had pushed it to the back of her mind during the long march, but, now that the slaves had reached their destination and all hope of freedom seemed forever out of reach, it was hard to avoid thinking of the things she had lost.

"Sorry, Galadria," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I was just . . . thinking about my father - I still can't quite believe what Delven said was true . . ."

"I'll never forget my father either," Galadria told her. "I was six years old when he died so I can only just remember what he was like . . ."

"What happened?" Fletchen asked, seeing that the event clearly still pained Galadria slightly but needing to know the circumstances behind it. Galadria paused for a moment, in her mind at any rate - her arms continued the task of breaking through the piles of rock various wheelbarrow-pushers brought to her.

"It was a tidal wave," she said simply and matter-of-factly. "A big one that engulfed nearly all of Androsia - I remember Father struggling to get us to high ground. But he - he didn't make it - the wave took him just as he was climbing the safety tower. Fletchen, I _hate_ tidal waves!"

"Galadria, I'm sorry." Fletchen looked into her friend's troubled blue eyes, a sympathetic expression on her face. "Do you still miss him?"

"I still think of him even now," Galadria went on, nodding slightly as she spoke. "He - he used to call me Gladdie - it was my childhood nickname and . . ."

She never finished her sentence for, at that moment, she cried out and sank to her knees clutching her head as the image of a dolphin on her chest-plate began pulsating oddly. Fletchen, concerned by this sudden turn of events, could only watch helplessly as some unseen force levitated Galadria into the air as far as the chains would allow and left her there for a few seconds before slamming her brutally against the floor. Nearby, several other slaves watched dumbstruck, aghast at the sinister forces that seemed to be at work and at least six guards were hurrying across to see what was wrong.

It was then that the source of the trouble became clear. One of the guards chanced to glance at the pile of rocks Galadria had been working on and the first thing he noticed was a glint of purple in among the rubble. Eagerly, he grabbed it and cleaned it off on his clothes, revealing a brilliant Crystal the size of a human hand.

"Over here!" he called. "The first Crystal has been found!"

Galadria was physically exhausted, her energy drained by exposure to a Crystal of Power. She did not know what had caused it, only that it had to be some kind of extremely dangerous magic, magic that had to be stopped at all costs. But, when she tried to move, she immediately sank down again; even her energy reserves were gone and all she could do was look at Fletchen helplessly.

"Fletchen . . ." Galadria gasped, her voice barely audible. "Help . . . me . . ." She slumped forward and lay still.

A guard promptly moved in to beat her, but one of the other restrained him. "Save your cat - she's had it," he whispered. "Such a shame on her first day . . ."

"Aye," the first guard added, looking into Galadria's serene features for a moment. "She was a pretty thing too. Oh well - better get her unchained."

* * *

Forcing the Darkling Lords to walk ahead in order to give "early warning" of any booby traps, Leoric and his followers entered the Lost Shrine. Getting inside proved surprisingly easy - "too easy" was how Ectar described it - and they did not meet anyone until they found a phalanx of guards barring their way.

"Which of you is called Leoric?" demanded the group's self-elected leader, a muscular man who had chosen a red bandana as his badge of office.

Leoric decided the best course of action would be to make himself known immediately and stepped forward, barging Lexor and Cravex out of the way. "I am," he replied. "And we intend to enter this Shrine."

"Not without Sanofainus's permission you don't!" the guard retorted, convinced that would make this insolent knight back down. Unfortunately, he was only used to dealing with slaves so weakened by hours of constant work that they barely had the energy to fight back - Leoric was an entirely different proposition.

Leoric knew instinctively that the best way to handle braggarts like this was with a show of force. Wasting no time, he uncoiled his whip and swung it threateningly. "Then tell Sanofainus you have _my_ permission to get out of our way!"

With that, he charged headlong into them; unused to sudden retaliation, the guards were quite literally bowled over. Then, getting over the initial surprise, they regrouped and surrounded the intruders, cat-o'-nine-tails raised ready to strike.

One of them swung at Ectar, but he saw it coming and shapeshifted into his Fox form just in time to avoid the nine vicious lashes. The guard seemed taken aback at striking nothing but air - then it dawned on him that these were no ordinary strangers, that they must have some bizarre powers that enabled them to change their forms.

But their leader was not about to retreat. "Get after him!" he ordered as Ectar disappeared down the corridor. "We're going on a fox-hunt!" Then, as the rest of the guards charged after the Spectral Knight, he made the tactical error of joining them rather than staying to hold off Ectar's companions. Leoric, his whip still poised for battle, watched them go.

"Good - while Ectar's got that lot distracted . . ."

"We'll capture you!" finished Darkstorm as his followers drew their weapons and circled around Leoric's.

* * *

"Yes," Mortdredd smirked. "Lord Darkstorm had this planned from the start - we would pretend to call a truce with you and, when the time was right . . . pow!" He slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand to emphasise his words.

Leoric, however, was not about to be taken without a fight. He nodded to Witterquick and Cryotek as the three Spectral Knights drew their weapons and stood poised to battle - they knew it would not be easy with only the three of them against the seven Darkling Lords, but they had to try. For the sake of Galadria, Arzon, Feryl and the others enslaved underground, they had to make a stand against their long-term enemies.

"Watch your back, Cryotek!" Leoric shouted as Cindarr raised his club against Cryotek while the latter was occupied with parrying blows from Virulina.

Leoric's words proved to be a more-than-adequate warning and, before the slow-witted Cindarr had chance to react, Cryotek pulled him off his feet and flung him hard against Mortdredd, putting both Darkling Lords temporarily out of action. "Two for the price of one!" Cryotek declared triumphantly as he whirled his bola in preparation to launch an attack on the next Darkling Lord who felt like trying something.

Witterquick vaulted over Reekon's head, assuming his Cheetah form as he landed and darting back into the fray to knock Virulina off her feet. She countered by pulling out her knife and, with a evil laugh, slashed at the Cheetah who barely dodged the blow before disarming her and turning his attention to Lexor.

Seeing Witterquick crouching in his animal form, his tail swishing as he prepared to attack, was enough to push the cowardly Darkling Lord over the edge. Lexor had not wanted to come down here and it was only a direct threat from Darkstorm that he would be subject to a terrible (and unspecified) fate if he refused that had persuaded him to join the others. Even so, it did not take much to make him shapeshift into his Armadillo form and crouch in a tight ball, bracing himself for the incoming attack.

With a quick tap of his paw, Witterquick sent Lexor careering into his fellow Darkling Lords and knocked them down like skittles. Before they could regain their feet, the three Spectral Knights quickly surrounded them, keeping their weapons drawn ready for any trouble - even Gawalar and Atla took up position despite the fact they were unarmed.

"Let's have a recap, Darkstorm!" Leoric said, breathing heavily. "Something about leading us into a trap, wasn't it?"

Darkstorm scowled and muttered several words that would have made even the coarsest warlord blush as he realised the Spectral Knights had outwitted him again. As soon as they were through dealing with their enemies, he would make examples out of the useless blunderers he called his followers . . .

"Oh no you don't!" Cryotek informed Darkstorm when he saw the Darkling Lord start to move. "All of you - go sit over there!" He pointed to a low rock a few feet from where they had encountered the Shrine's guards. "On your hands - and don't even _think_ about following us!"

* * *

Having neutralised the Darkling Lords - for the time being at least - Leoric and his party continued into the Lost shrine. As they rounded a corner, they saw Ectar emerging from a side room where he had hidden to shake off the guards, breathing heavily and trembling with shock.

Leoric knew immediately that whatever his friend had seen had to be something unbelievably vile - Ectar simply wasn't the sort to be easily spooked. "Take it easy, Ectar," he urged. "What's in there? What did you see?"

Forcing himself to speak coherently, Ectar explained. "It - it looks like some sort of charnel house . . . bodies everywhere," he stammered. "Mostly slaves by the look of them - how could anyone have such scant regard for human life? Galadria . . . Galadria . . . by the Three Suns, don't let her be dead!"

"Galadria?" Leoric asked, hoping against hope that Ectar's worst fears were not about to be realised. "Are you saying she's . . ."

The two Spectral Knights looked at each other helplessly, refusing to believe that they could already be too late to help one of their captive fellows. Then, Leoric's instincts as a leader took over - they needed to see for themselves what had happened to Galadria before they gave her up as lost, besides which, there were still other slaves they might still be able to free. "Cryotek, you get Galadria out of there," he instructed in the firmest voice he could muster.

* * *

"Well?" Atla asked as Cryotek emerged from the room - used by the guards as a tomb for those slaves they had, quite simply, worked to death - with the motionless Galadria in his arms. "Is that her and is she alive?"

"Aye - just," Cryotek said shortly as he placed the comatose young woman on the floor and gently brushed a lock of her hair off her face. "Leoric, I hope this wasn't caused by what I think it was," he added, staring into his leader's eyes with a troubled expression on his face.

"What exactly does that mean?" demanded Gawalar, who was anxious to get to the main workings and look for his lost son. And then there was the "small matter" of a certain wizard . . .

"It means," said Witterquick, deciding the best course of action was to be direct and call a spade a spade, "that Galadria more than likely saw one of the Crystals of Power - and we've got to find Arzon and Feryl before the same thing happens to them." With that, he made to head for the main workings.

"No," Leoric told him firmly. "First, we must try to cure Galadria or her own magical powers will kill her." He pulled out his Power Staff as he uttered the words that summoned the Owl of Wisdom:

"Whispered secrets of a shattered Age  
I summon you, renew this sage."

A magical Owl emerged and hovered in mid-air, although it did not appear to flap its wings. "Sometimes, destruction brings rebirth," it said before winking out of existence. The Owl of Wisdom never gave concrete information, just vague hints on what the Spectral Knights' next move should be. But, without the Bearer of Knowledge or Arzon to call on it, there was no other option.

"Destruction brings rebirth?" mused Witterquick, furrowing his brow as he tried to think what the Owl could mean this time.

"I can't figure it out either," Cryotek said from where he knelt beside Galadria. "And every second we try wastes time . . . unless!" he interjected as something occured to him. It was a long shot and there was no way of knowing if it would succeed until they tried it. "Leoric, if it was a Crystal of Power that did this, could destroying it remove its hold over her?"

Leoric had been thinking along much the same lines, that getting rid of the Crystal might be the key to saving Galadria. "I think you might be right, Cryotek," he said with the faint trace of a smile on his face. "The power of that Crystal caused Galadria's magic to turn against her, so - if we destroy it . . ."

"None of us can do it," Ectar said, frustrated by the seemingly unworkable advice. "The second we see that Crystal, we'll end up . . ." He nodded towards the unconscious Galadria.

"Maybe, Ectar," Leoric replied. "But it won't affect Gawalar and Atla . . ."

* * *

Sanofainus stepped back to admire the Crystal and imagined how things would be once he had all Seven. When that happened, he would be absolute ruler of Prysmos, everyone on the planet living only to serve him. The first thing he planned to do was set his slaves to building a tower - a magnificent marble structure spiralling into the sky - and he had plenty of other projects in mind as well.

But his plans did not allow for the possibility of a slave rebellion - nor did they allow for the sudden arrival of Gawalar and Atla.

Gawalar kept Sanofainus distracted while Atla snatched the Crystal from its place on the altar. Doubling his fist up, he rammed it into the tyrant's face, causing Sanofainus to recoil from the impact as Gawalar moved in for another blow. "How do you feel now?" Gawalar mocked, bearing down on Sanofainus as he spoke. "Do you like the taste of the humiliation you've meted out on so many? And did you know those Crystals you seek might be dangerous? One of your slaves is unconscious because of them . . ."

"I - I . . ." Sanofainus tried to say as he struggled to back away. Gawalar seized him by his robe and pulled him towards him so that their faces were only inches apart.

"What do you care if that young woman dies?" he demanded angrily. "She's just a beast of burden to you! This," he added, punching Sanofainus in the stomach, "is for Galadria! And this . . ." Another punch followed. " . . . is for my son, Dagan!"

Winded from Gawalar's beating and taken completely by surprise at being attacked in his own stronghold, Sanofainus staggered away just as Atla darted past with the Crystal in her hands. It did not take him long to realise what was happening and, with a yell of fury, he made a grab for the Crystal Atla was holding. She stepped to one side, causing the tyrant to lose his balance as he failed to compensate for her change in position.

"Give me that Crystal, woman!" Sanofainus ordered as Atla struggled to keep it out of range of his grasping hands.

"Never!" Atla retorted. "I will not allow Prysmos to be tainted by your evil!" With that, she stepped back a pace and, before Sanofainus could stop her, hurled the Crystal against the far wall . . .

Immediately, the Crystal exploded with a blinding flash of light that forced Gawalar, Atla and Sanofainus to close their eyes to avoid being blinded. A screaming hurricane tore through the room, accompanied by the chanting of a crowd of unseen speakers, as Sanofainus groped round for the horn he used to alert his guards. Five short blasts would be all it took to summon reinforcements and teach these intruders a lesson they would never forget. Unfortunately, he did not realise he was standing at the top of the stairs until it was too late . . .

* * *

Gawalar and Atla did not stop to watch as Sanofainus fell; they headed straight back to where the Spectral Knights waited for them. Galadria was awake and on her feet, albeit leaning heavily on Cryotek, the threat to her life removed along with the Crystal and seemed in remarkably good spirits.

"How are you feeling?" Gawalar asked her. Galadria responded by pulling away from Cryotek and taking a few unaided steps, faltering at first but growing more confident as her strength returned.

"Fine, considering the last thing I remember is being thrown about like a piece of waste paper," she said with a slight laugh. "Now, let's get back to the workings and rescue the others."

Leoric held his whip ready to fight, his eyes narrowed as he silently renewed the vow he had made on the day his friends were taken. No matter how insurmountable the odds seemed, he would not leave the Lost Shrine until they were freed and the evil regime that had stolen them was crushed.

* * *


	9. Fight For Freedom

**

Fight For Freedom

**

The chief difficulty in getting the slaves out came in the form of the guards - there were no-one knew how many of them compared to only seven, with the addition of Galadria, in Leoric's group. Nonetheless, as far as Leoric was concerned, it was his sworn duty to end the tyranny that had been going on down here for the last eight months and he meant to see this through until the end.

Gathering his followers together, he outlined his plan. "Now, we know there are too few of us to take on Sanofainus' guards directly," he explained. "If we try anything like that, all that will happen is that they'll slaughter us and this whole nightmare will continue . . ."

"So, what is it you plan to do?" asked Witterquick. He had no doubt that, whatever Leoric was planning had to be in the best interests of everyone - even if a direct assault was impossible, the Spectral Knights' leader was sure to find a way to achieve his mission.

"We split up and free the slaves a few at a time," Leoric explained. "That way, it'll be easier to slip into the workings unobserved than it would be if we all tried to go at once. Then, we'll meet up - all of us - and then . . ." He paused for dramatic purposes and raised his whip as if he was striking at an imaginary foe. "Then the fight for freedom begins!"

The others nodded approvingly and the five Spectral Knights gathered round in a circle, joining hands at the centre in a gesture of comradeship.

"May the Light shine forever!" they said, speaking as one. This ritual served to cement the bond between the Spectral Knights and their allies and, while it could vary in tone depending on the circumstances, it was rarely as serious as it was now. The lives of many young people and the very future of Prysmos depended on them and failure . . .

But Leoric knew better than to dwell on the possibility that the rescue might not be successful and began to outline his plan in detail. "Now, here's what I want each of you to do . . ."

* * *

As Witterquick crept through the underground kingdom, passing groups of young slaves labouring under the threat of their overseers' cat-o'-nine-tails, he had to fight to contain his disgust at what was going on down here. The scenes Merklynn had shown at Iron Mountain, disturbing as they were, could do little to prepare anyone for the reality. Glancing at a few slaves, he saw the same expression in all their young faces - that all hope was lost and they might as well resign themselves to spending the rest of their lives down here.

It was the younger slaves - those nearing or barely in their teens - that angered him the most and he was all he could do to keep himself from rushing headlong into the workings and grabbing the nearest chain-gang. But it was safer to wait until an opportunity presented itself, until he had the means to get the chains off them. That chance came when a guard, for no apparent reason other than a desire to be as sadistic as he knew how, decided to raise his cat-o'-nine-tails to a group of slaves working only a few feet away from where Witterquick was hiding, just near enough to recognise Feryl at the end of the line.

Wasting no time, he assumed his Cheetah form and darting at the guard, unhooking his keys from the loop in his belt. Then, before the astonished guard could react, he changed back into his human form and set to work on Feryl's manacles.

"Wh - what's going on?" Feryl stammered as the chains fell away. "Witterquick, how did you get in here?"

"Shh!" Witterquick warned the younger knight, well aware that they could be caught at any moment. "Help me free the others, but do it quietly."

It did not take long to get the chains off the other four members of the chain-gang and they now stood blinking in the gloomy light of the underground realm. None of them was sure what to do next; the only thing they knew was that the hour of freedom seemed to be at hand, that their life of forced labour was coming to an end. As this realisation dawned on them, it reignited what little hope they had managed to maintain and they began cheering and shouting.

"We're not free yet," Feryl told them. "But, if you follow us, we'll . . ." He broke off when he saw Leoric and Arzon approaching at the head of an army of wheelbarrow-pushers.

"Looks like we've got reinforcements," he added.

* * *

Elsewhere in the underground realm, Kromos was doing some plotting of his own.

Earlier in the day, he had been in the process of delivering a message to Sanofainus when he found the tyrant's broken body lying half-way up the stairs, exactly where he had landed when he fell while trying to wrestle the Crystal away from Atla. He was alive, but only barely and his dying breaths had been used in telling Kromos what had happened, how two intruders had burst in on him and stolen the Crystal he had forced his slaves to search so hard for.

"One . . . Crystal . . . gone," Sanofainus had told Kromos, his once powerful voice barely audible. "But six . . . still remain - maybe they are . . . enough . . ."

"Enough for what, my Lord Sanofainus?" Kromos had demanded. But his words came too late, for Sanofainus - who had made it his life's work to become the most powerful man on Prysmos - had closed his eyes for the last time, his ambition never realised during his lifetime, the Crystals that would have given him his power still not found.

So it was that Kromos had summoned Bogavas and his gang to the room Sanofainus had used as his private quarters and was now outlining what he wanted them to do. "We will carry on the work Sanofainus began - the slaves will continue to labour until the remaining Crystals are found," he informed them. "But, first, we have a more pressing problem to deal with - there are intruders in the Lost Shrine and they must be crushed! Bogavas, do you remember our agreement?"

"Aye," Bogavas said stiffly, recalling that Sanofainus had decreed that, upon the latter's death, he and Kromos would become joint rulers of the underground kingdom and - once the Crystals were found - the whole of Prysmos. The wizard smirked as he thought what a fool Kromos was - he had plans of his own and they did not involve sharing power with anyone . . .

* * *

Back at the workings, a sizeable number of slaves had already been set free and were now fighting side-by-side with their rescuers. Armed mainly with their bare fists and a great deal of determination - although some had utilised discarded chains and Arzon and Feryl had their Totems to fall back on - they battled for the thing they had believed was lost forever. They battled for their freedom.

As a heavily built guard darted at Yilly in a bid to recapture at least one slave, Galadria ran in from the side, the spear she had grabbed from a fallen guard raised ready to attack. Before she could land a decent blow, however, the guard swung at her with his cat-o'-nine-tails and knocked her off balance. Galadria staggered for a moment, managing to stay on her feet but dropping the spear in the process. The heavily built guard picked it up and seized Yilly by her hair.

"Stand back - or I'll run this brat through!" he snarled, convinced this would be enough to make the intruders back off.

As Yilly struggled and cried, fighting vainly against her powerful captor, the Spectral Knights could only watch helplessly, faced with a dilemma few would relish. They had sworn to destroy this evil kingdom . . . but not at the expense of an innocent girl's life. Even so, they knew that backing off would only mean the whole nightmare would start over again; young Prysmosians would continue to slave below ground, this time with no hope of salvation. And the world that would result once the Crystals were found was too terrible to contemplate - would it be right to save Yilly's life for _that_?

In the end, Witterquick could take it no more. Pulling his Power Staff out, he jabbed the tip into the ground as he called out the words that activated it:

"Sheathe these feet in the driving gale  
Make swift these legs, o'er land I sail!"

In a flash of blue light, Witterquick was only inches from the bullying guard's head and, before the brute had chance to react, he jabbed him smartly in the neck. This had the effect of cutting off his circulation so that he collapsed unconscious on the spot. Witterquick checked that he posed no further threat, tying him up with a discarded cat-o'-nine-tails as further insurance, before turning his attention to Yilly.

"Quick - put your arms round my neck and hold on," he told her firmly. Then, as he turned to go with Yilly clinging to his back, he heard Atla's voice calling from nearby; she had been trying to get through to save her daughter from the moment the guard took her as a hostage.

"Yilly!" she called. "Yilly! Hang on, baby!" In just a few more paces, she caught up with Witterquick and the girl on his back was soon enfolded in a maternal hug.

"I knew you'd come for me! I knew it!" Yilly told her mother through happy tears as Atla set her down on the ground.

"How could I do otherwise?" Atla replied. Then, she turned to Witterquick and thanked him for saving her only daughter. "If it hadn't been for you, she would be . . ." Atla chose not to complete the sentence.

Witterquick responded with a slight shrug. "I knew she was in trouble, but not that she was Yilly," he informed Atla. "And we still have to make an end of this one way or another . . ."

* * *

As the subterranean battle between the Spectral Knights and their allies and Sanofainus' guards continued to rage, the Darkling Lords crept furtively through the shadows. Darkstorm had, as a matter of course, taken the lead and was smiling to himself at the thought of what he planned to do to the Spectral Knights once he had them cornered. Too many times had they outsmarted him and made him look like a fool, too many times had his attempts to steal their magic ended in failure - but they would currently be too busy battling the guards to notice a few extra opponents. All the Darkling Lords had to do was sneak into the battle and . . .

A sudden clattering distracted Darkstorm from his thoughts as he spun round to see which of his stooges had stupidly betrayed their presence. Seeing their leader's ruthless eyes scanning each of them in turn, Virulina and Lexor promptly started trying to pin the blame on each other.

"If you please, Darkstorm," Lexor said in the smarmiest voice he could muster, "it was Virulina - she wasn't watching where she was going and she must've kicked a stone or something."

"You lying toad!" Virulina retorted, giving Lexor a vindictive shove as she flew into a towering rage. "Darkstorm," she said to her leader, "are you going to believe . . .?"

Before Virulina could continue, Darkstorm grabbed her from behind and clamped his hand over her mouth, ignoring her when she tried to struggle free. "Keep your voice down or you'll give us away!" he hissed in her ear. But a glance further down told him it was already too late.

The Spectral Knights had heard their enemies' voices and were leading the freed slaves in a charge.

* * *

Shouting impromptu war cries as they brandished chains that had until recently been used to restrain slaves, Casiusa and Feryl launched into action. Casiusa, who had no idea who the Darkling Lords were but could tell at a glance that they meant trouble, leapt through the air with her makeshift weapon whirling menacingly while Feryl tried to fight his way through the ranks of the enemy and get to Leoric. As he did so, he paused in the midst of parrying blows with Reekon to call across to Casiusa.

"How are you doing there?" he asked as she used her chain to disarm Lexor, whose immediate response was to assume his Armadillo form and curl into a tight ball. Casiusa promptly gave the Armadillo a swift kick and sent him careering into Darkstorm and Cindarr.

Chaos was added to confusion as the three Darkling Lords went sprawling in an awkward heap and promptly began arguing among themselves, calling each other the worst names they could think of. Seeing this, Feryl impulsively decided to take on all three at once and, stopping only to assume his Wolf form, charged headlong into their midst with a low growl. Unfortunately, he failed to notice that Cravex had blindsided him until the Darkling Lord was directly behind him and had his Power Staff drawn.

"Oh mist filled pits, dark, dank, unclear,  
Touch all before me with frost-fingered fear!"

Cravex chanted, watching with smug satisfaction as the deadly Spider of Fear emerged from his Staff and launched itself at Feryl . . .

* * *

The shock of being bitten by the Spider jolted Feryl out of his Totem form and he was now crouched on the floor, his head spinning as its terrifying hallucinatory power took hold and began distorting his sense of reality.

Physically, he was in the Lost Shrine. But, in his mind, he was back in the terrifying forest he and the others had passed through along the way - the Forest of the Strangle Vines. Then, one of the killer Vines began crawling slowly towards him, eager in its quest for a fresh victim, intent solely on choking the life out of the young Spectral Knight . . .

The other Spectral Knights looked round with a start when they heard Feryl cry out and, pushing guards and Darkling Lords aside, hurried over to find him backing away from a non-existant foe. Seeing the glazed expression of sheer terror on his face was enough to tell them what had happened, that the Spider of Fear had been unleashed and Feryl was its latest victim. But the Power of Fear was such that there was little anyone could do to stop it once it had affected someone - all they could do was try to keep Feryl out of any physical danger until its effects wore off.

Feryl, meanwhile, was mentally caught up in a vast net of Strangle Vines with nowhere to run, every escape route being cut off by the deadly creepers. Wild with fear, he struggled to break away, to evade their choking stems and became totally oblivious to what was actually going on around him. Then, out of the tangle mass of Vines, a single creeper began to snake its way towards him . . .

* * *

With an anguished yell like that of a trapped animal, Feryl launched himself at his attacker, intent on putting up a fight even if he was going to be slain. Then, as he grabbed hold of the Vine in a bid to hold it back as long as possible, he vaugely heard something that, had he not been affected by the Power of Fear, might have been enough to stop him from attacking further.

"Feryl! Stop it!" Leoric's voice commanded as Feryl continued his assault on the "Vine" (actually Leoric's whip which he had been using on a nearby guard). But there was no reasoning with someone who had been bitten by the Spider of Fear and, as he watched Leoric struggling to calm Feryl down, Cryotek quickly realised that it was time for desperate measures . . .

Wasting no time, he stole up behind Feryl with his bola whirling and felled the young knight with a well-placed blow to the back of the head. "Sorry about that," he whispered as he knelt beside the fallen Feryl. "But I didn't exactly . . ."

Before Cryotek could finish speaking, a seemingly disembodied voice, mocking and cruel, suddenly rang out, echoing loudly through the underground realm.

"Fools! None of you will leave this Shrine alive!"

* * *


	10. The Reckoning

**

The Reckoning

**

Everyone in the Lost Shrine looked up with a start, the battle forgotten as they struggled to absorb the meaning of the mocking taunt. "That's Kromos' voice!" exclaimed Jonitrus. "What's he doing in Sanofainus' speaking chamber?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ectar said wearily. "And one more thing - does it strike anyone as odd that we haven't seen Bogavas since we got here?"

Leoric frowned as he realised Ectar's words had given voice to the unease he had been feeling throughout the battle to topple Sanofainus' evil regime. It wasn't that he had expected to find Bogavas waiting for him the moment he and his party entered the Lost Shrine, but the wizard had been conspicuously absent throughout all the struggles. And, if Leoric knew anything about rogue wizards, it was that Bogavas' absence more than likely meant he had one more surprise in store.

"You're right, Ectar," he admitted, bracing himself to rush Kromos when he emerged from his hiding place. Standing defiantly tall, the Spectral Knights' leader called out his challenge to the new ruler of the kingdom that had stolen his friends. "Kromos, you cowardly scum!" he shouted. "Why don't you come out and fight like a man instead of hiding behind your precious Sanofainus?!"

"Sanofainus is dead!" Kromos retorted as he appeared at the top of the stairs to the workings. "I now rule the Lost Shrine - and soon, all of Prysmos will bow before me and tremble!" He launched into a gale of mocking laughter as he visualised the world he would build, a world where freedom was dead and all Prysmosians lived only to serve his elite order. That was the dream Sanofainus had held for many years and Kromos meant to see it become reality.

"Go chase a basilisk!" Atla shot back from where she stood with Pallenne and Yilly. "I think you'll find you're missing one of the Crystals you need to control us . . ."

"Maybe so," Kromos said as he descended the stairs. "But Sanofainus believed the remaining Six still hold enough power and, when my slaves find them, _I_ will rule Prysmos! I will achieve the ambition Sanofainus never . . ."

"I think not!" It was Bogavas who had materialised as if out of thin air, his spiked weapon drawn ready to throw. With a practiced air, he drew back his hand and launched the deadly spike at Kromos who barely had time to cry out before he fell to the floor, dead. "I don't need mortals to rule," he said with feigned calm as he waved his hand and the spike embedded deep in Kromos' chest magically extracted itself and flew back to its owner.

* * *

Bogavas continued to smile wickedly as he thought of how easy it had been to depose Kromos, thereby removing another obstacle to his ambitions. From the moment the Darkling Lords accidentally sprang him from the Wizards' Jail, he had been determined to ensure that he remained free no matter what the cost. Denying that he had any true magical knowledge when the Spectral Knights caught him and hauled him before Merklynn had been a useful stalling tactic, but he was only too aware that sooner or later someone would realise just how powerful he really was - Merklynn had already begun to doubt his integrity within hours of the test that had supposedly cleared his name.

It was this that had led Bogavas to join forces with Sanofainus and Kromos, knowing that through them he would be able to gain access to the Crystals of Power and eliminate all opposition. Even Merklynn, the most powerful wizard on Prysmos, would not be able to stand up to the power of all the Crystals, but he had fourteen knights serving him and he was bound to send them on a quest to recapture him sooner or later. And, since he perceived the Spectral Knights as the bigger threat, Bogavas had spent many hours plotting their downfall . . .

And now his plans were finally coming to fruition - he had outlived Sanofainus and Kromos and all the Spectral Knights were exactly where he wanted them. "I thought you'd find a way to follow me," he told Leoric as he gazed dispassionately at the Spectral Knight. "You're too noble for your own good, Leoric - and I intend to destroy you!"

"Not so fast!" Leoric retorted, rising to the bait against all common sense. "First, you and I have a score to settle, Bogavas!"

* * *

Nearby, Feryl had recovered and had staggered to his feet just in time to see Leoric standing face-to-face with Bogavas, the former's chest-plate glowing as he prepared to assume his Lion form. In that instant, Feryl recalled the way Bogavas had trapped him when he tried to attack him in his Wolf form . . .

"Leoric!" he shouted as he drew level with his leader. "Whatever you do, don't use your Totem!"

The urgency in his friend's tone caused Leoric to stop himself just in time. Unfortunately, Feryl's words distracted him and Bogavas quickly took advantage of his momentary lapse to cast his spiked weapon at him. Leoric instinctively made to dodge out the way, only to find that the lethal spike changed its trajectory and continued to pursue him relentlessly, its point constantly aimed at his neck. Bogavas gloated with satisfaction; this was working out better than he had hoped when he first hatched his fiendish plan. Soon, the Spectral Knights would be just a bad memory of seven thorns in his side . . .

"Cryotek, do something!" Galadria pleaded from where she and her fellow Spectral Knights stood watching helplessly as their leader tried to avoid the enchanted weapon.

Cryotek did not need telling twice. Wasting no time, he pulled out his Power Staff and, shouting:

"Three Suns align, pour forth their light,  
and fill the archer's bow with might!"

summoned a magical archer which shot Bogavas' weapon down in mid-flight seconds before it lodged itself in Leoric's neck. "That's for what you did to Belizar!" Cryotek shouted as the deadly weapon broke into three pieces. Then, as Bogavas stared speechlessly, too stunned to even think about using his magic, Ectar and Gawalar pounced, seizing the wizard from behind and chaining him with a discarded pair of slave manacles.

"Gotcha!" Ectar said, breathing heavily as he clipped the chains round Bogavas' wrists. "You picked the wrong knights to tangle with, you wolf in sheep's clothing! Er . . . no offence, Feryl," he said to the young knight, who happened to be standing nearby.

"None taken," Feryl replied with a wry smile. "Now, I guess we'd better . . ."

He was cut off by a commotion in the crowd as Leoric fought to restrain Fletchen as she made to rush at Bogavas with a rock in her hand ready to throw. "Let go of me!" she yelled, struggling to free herself and get to the wizard. "That fiend killed my father!"

"Fletchen, calm down!" Leoric ordered in as firm a voice as he could muster. It was obvious what had happened - either Bogarvis or one of his slaver-monks had told Fletchen that her father was dead. "You don't know what really happened."

"I know enough!" Fletchen said bitterly. "That first day, one of the slavers told me Bogavas murdered my father and Beli . . ."

"He _thought_ they were both dead," Leoric corrected her gently. "But Gleering is alive, Fletchen - I don't know how, but Bogavas' weapon only wounded him."

Fletchen looked him full in the face and knew in that moment that what he said was true; Leoric of all people would never lie about something like that. With a strangled sob, she dropped the rock and flew into his arms. "All this time, I've been thinking he was dead," she said through tears of happiness, thinking back to the day Gleering had comforted her following Leoric's alleged death. It all seemed so long ago now, even though it was actually a year at the most and she was no longer the naive village maiden she had once been.

* * *

While all this was going on, Darkstorm and his followers had been busy trying to win the defeated guards round to their cause. Even though Sanofainus and Kromos, both of whom had been potentially useful allies, had been slain, Darkstorm was determined to ensure that the trek to the Lost Shrine would not be completely wasted. And since, as a magic-user, he could not be exposed to the Crystals of Power, that meant there was only one thing he could do.

"My friends," he told the assembled guards, who had been milling around aimlessly, unsure what to do now that their leaders were dead or captured. "My friends, I know a way you can avenge your fallen leaders! Pledge allegiance to the Darkling Lords and I will help you banish Leoric and his . . ."

He got no further before Arzon swooped down in his Eagle form and began attacking the guards with beak and talons. Darkstorm watched with mounting fury as they tried in vain to grab the Eagle and frantically urged them on to greater and greater efforts. He meant to defeat at least one Spectral Knight and was not about to leave the Lost Shrine until he did.

* * *

"Er . . ., Darkstorm?" Mortdredd ventured, tapping his commander on the shoulder.

"Not now, Mortdredd!" Darkstorm snapped impatiently. There were times he wished Mortdredd would stop fawning round him and give him a bit of breathing space. "Cravex! Fly up and bring that mangy bird down! Well?" he added when Cravex showed no signs of moving. "Get on with it!"

"Darkstorm?" It was Reekon who spoke this time. "I think you'd better turn round . . ."

Slowly, Darkstorm did so - to find himself facing the Spectral Knights and their allies who had circled around while Arzon distracted them. Before he had chance to react, they leapt into action. The male Spectral Knights assumed their animal forms and charged headlong into their midst, while Galadria, unable to use her Totem in her current environment, fought alongside the rest of the freed slaves. She, Fletchen and Casiusa had each liberated a spear from a defeated guard and the three young women were now using them to stick any enemy who ventured too close.

"Watch your back, Fletchen!" Galadria called.

Fletchen whipped round and felled Brother Delven seconds before he grabbed her. "Got him!" she said, smiling with satisfaction at having downed that particular slaver-monk. "Casiusa! Behind you!"

Casiusa ducked her head just in time to avoid the muscular guard who was about to knock her senseless with a thick plank of wood and proceeded to trip him up with her spear-haft. Unfortunately, she failed to hear Cravex flying towards her in his Phylot form until one of the creature's vicious talons raked her back and she sank to her knees as Feryl ran over to reinforce the trio.

"Casiusa, are you all right?" he asked as he helped her to her feet.

"Sure - it's just a scratch," she replied. "How's it going up your end?"

"We've managed to hem most of the guards in - Gawalar and Dagan have taken charge of Bogavas," Feryl explained. "But something tells me this isn't over yet . . ."

* * *

Darkstorm watched with mounting fury as Leoric and his followers continued to advance like a human tidal wave, liberating the few slaves not already freed as they did so. The guards had been thoroughly routed and were in no mood to fight even though he tried to win them round with promises of "handsome rewards" for their loyalty. Once again, the balance of power had shifted firmly in favour of the Spectral Knights . . .

Arrogant as he was, Darkstorm knew there was no way the seven Darkling Lords could defeat the Spectral Knights plus a vengeful army of freed slaves in hand-to-hand combat - for one thing they were heavily outnumbered. But, maybe, there was something he could do . . .

"Cindarr!" he snapped, turning to the only one of his followers whose Power Staff hadn't been used during this bizarre adventure.

The brutish Darkling Lord raised his head, wondering what it was he had done this time. Cindarr had never been very quick on the uptake and, as a result had frequently been derided as a simpleton by his fellow Darkling Lords. "Yes, Darkstorm - d'you want me?"

"Call forth your Power of Destruction," Darkstorm said in a low menacing voice. "I want this place . . . caved in!"

Cindarr hesitated briefly; he had never been particularly adept at being as ruthless as the other Darkling Lords, having joined up with Darkstorm primarily for the board and lodging at the latter's Castle. "But won't that kill a lot of people?" he asked, wincing as Darkstorm prodded him with his own Power Staff.

"Who cares about that? Now, do it or, the second we get back to the surface, I'll make you wish I'd left you down here!" he snapped in a tone that no Darkling Lord dared disobey.

"By nature's hand, by craft, by art,  
What once was one - now fly apart!"

shouted Cindarr as he raised his Power Staff. And a massive Beast wearing a necklace of human skulls emerged with a growl and started bashing at the walls of the Lost Shrine.

* * *

The Darkling Lords wasted no time in getting out of the Lost Shrine; they were in their vehicles and driving away by the time the Beast of Destruction winked out of existence.

Down below, Leoric was trying to marshall everyone together in a bid to get them out before the Shrine caved in on them. Flanked by Ectar and Witterquick, he called on the freed slaves to follow his orders carefully if they wanted to see the outside world again.

"Keep together and help the children as much as you can!" he ordered. "And, whatever you do, don't panic! We have only minutes to get out of here and panicking will cost us time. Ectar," he added to his fellow Spectral Knight, "would you escort Bogavas?"

"No problem, Leoric," Ectar replied as he grabbed the captive wizard from behind and began to frogmarch him away. Bogavas offered no resistence, knowing that the Lost Shrine offered no further secrets and would shortly be wiped off the face of Prysmos. Not that it mattered too much; he would bide his time and, maybe, just maybe, another chance to outsmart the Spectral Knights would present itself.

It was while they were beginning the ascent of the stairs that led to what had been Sanofainus' quarters that Arzon glanced round with a puzzled expression on his face. "Where are the Darkling Lords?" he asked. "They were here, weren't they?"

"Never mind them!" retorted Feryl from further up the flight. "We've got to get away from here!"

Even as he spoke, the Shrine's walls - weakened by the Beast's vicious assault - began to crumble and dust started to fall. Then, an echoing rumble signalled the impending collapse of what had been the main slave-workings.

* * *


	11. Conclusion

**

Conclusion

**

Rocks crashed down as several hundred men, women and children fled from the devastation unfolding around them, slavers and former slaves united in the Lost Shrine's moment of dectruction. No-one would be sorry to see this underground hell as it had become under Sanofainus and his slavers destroyed, but the last thing they wanted was to be destroyed along with it.

Racing along the corridor that led from Sanofainus' quarters to the outside world, Leoric recalled his previous visit to the Lost Shrine. The Spectral Knights had been on the trail of the lying wizard Wheezasqueeza, who had escaped from the Wizards' Jail at the same time as Bogavas and had planned to bring darkness to Prysmos. But Leoric had burst in on him and knocked the Shrine's orb out of his hands, shattering it and destroying the Shrine's magic.

He had had much cause to reflect on those events lately; a nagging feeling of regret that he should have destroyed the Lost Shrine completely while he had the chance had been echoing in his mind ever since his friends were kidnapped. So many had suffered under the evil regime that took over the Shrine after the Spectral Knights left, with many young people trapped in a living nightmare of forced labour and brutal treatment - and all for the sake of Seven Crystals. The worst thing was that so much of this horror could have been prevented . . .

"Leoric, what's wrong? You seem troubled," Galadria enquired as she drew level with her leader.

"Sorry, I was just wondering if we should have destroyed . . ." Leoric began. But Galadria cut him short.

"No, Leoric," she said, shaking her head. "You weren't to know any of this would happen. What's important now is getting out of here."

* * *

The former slavers, meanwhile, were quarrelling over whether or not they should trust Leoric and escape with the people they had abused so cruelly. They knew the Lost Shrine was doomed and so were they if they didn't escape fast, but many of them were reluctant to follow the one who had intruded on the underground realm and, as far as they were concerned, had contributed to the death of Sanofainus.

"I say we don't have a choice," one guard argued. "So what if we're on opposite sides? This Leoric seems to know what he's doing and I doubt he's the type to slay wantonly."

"You think he _will_ leave us alone once we're out?!" Brother Turel countered. "He and his followers pursued us all the way from New Valarak and, if I know anything about Spectral Knights, he's not going to rest until . . ."

He was cut off abruptly as Brother Gudd pointed towards the rapidly crumbling ceiling, now sending large showers of dust and pebbles down on the heads of everyone in the Lost Shrine. "Er, . . . Turel?" Gudd ventured. "Don't you think we'd better get out of here before we're all buried alive?"

Turel snorted impatiently and pushed his fellow slaver-monk to one side. "You go if you want - and see what happens when the enemy catch you," he said shortly. "Meanwhile, since Sanofainus, Kromos and Bogavas have all been neutralised, I think that makes me the new ruler of . . ."

Before he could complete his sentence, the roof collapsed and his words were forever lost in a mass of rubble . . .

* * *

As the last of the freed slaves emerged into daylight, several of them blinking as their eyes - adapted to the gloom of the underground kingdom - adjusted to the brightness, the Spectral Knights watched as the Lost Shrine collapsed in on itself. Soon, not a trace of the place Sanofainus had made his realm remained, all that was left being an enormous pile of rocks too big and heavy to shift. Never again would an evil maniac try to use the Lost Shrine to conquer Prysmos - the nightmare was finally over.

Leoric glanced round at his fellow Spectral Knights to check that they had all made it out safely, before turning his attention to the handful of slavers - including ten from Bogavas' gang - who had managed to escape the cave-in.

"Now listen to me," he said sternly in a tone that clearly said he would not stand for any detraction. "Sanofainus is dead, as are all the rest of his followers - and Bogavas . . ." He nodded towards the captive wizard, whom Ectar and Witterquick had under guard. " . . . is our prisoner. No harm will come to you, but you must never ill-treat anyone ever again. And those of you who were with Bogavas will return to your monastery and answer to your abbot - I'm sure he'll have plenty to say about what you've been doing for the last eight months . . ."

Brother Gawonde, surprised by the leniency Leoric was showing despite having lost his friends to the slaver-monks, raised his hand. "Then, we're not being sentenced to death?" he asked.

"No," Leoric said without looking at the former slaver-monk. "There has been enough death and misery here - so I am giving you your lives and it's up to you not to abuse that gift."

* * *

After the former slavers had dispersed, heading off in different directions, Leoric gazed round at the motley crowd of young Prysmosians. Many of them had not seen the outside world in months, a fact reflected in their sallow complexions, and they were all covered in rockdust from their flight from the cave in. But they were finally free from Sanofainus' tyranny, the last remnants of the regime that had resorted to such cruelty in order to find the Crystals of Power having just gone off into the distance - under oath never to become involved in anything evil again.

"Well, I don't know about anyone else," he told them with a slight laugh. "But I think we'd better try and get you back to your families - I'm sure they've been out of their minds with worry. And anyone who wants to join my comrades and I in New Valarak is free to do so . . ."

In the crowd, Gawalar turned to Dagan and placed a paternal hand on the youth's shoulder. "Well, Dagan," he said with a light smile, "I bet you can't wait to get back to Mecron after all that excitement - and neither can I."

But Dagan shook his head slowly. "I - I don't think I'll be coming back with you, Father," he replied. "While I was on that slave-chain, I made a vow that - if I ever got free - I would start training to become a knight like Galadria, Arzon and Feryl. So, that means I'll be going to New Valarak."

Gawalar nodded his understanding, hating to part company from his son so soon after they were reunited but consoled by the fact that, this time, Dagan was going of his own free will. "If that's what you want, I guess it's not my place to stop you," was all he said. "But feel free to come back to Mecron any time you want."

"Don't worry, Father, I will," Dagan replied. Then, he turned to Atla who was standing beside Yilly, hovering over the girl as if she was afraid to let her out of her sight again. "What will you do, Atla?" he asked the woman.

Atla rested her hand on Yilly's shoulder as she pondered what to say next. "I think I've had enough adventures in the last few weeks to last me a lifetime," she said simply. "All I want is to get Yilly home safe and put all this unpleasentness behind us."

* * *

Late afternoon in Dalevore saw a group of people assembled in the streets, all anxiously awaiting news of the knights who had taken it upon themselves to free their young people from the tyranny of Sanofainus. Several dozen men and women stood in silent hope, all praying that their sons and daughters, nieces and nephews were alive and well and on the way home. Too long had these people lived with their grief at losing loved ones, too long had they endured the uncertainty of not knowing if they were alive or not.

At length, a man with greying brown hair, who had been sent to scout round for signs of activity at the Shrine, came running back with the news that would renew the town's hope after months of fear and uncertainty.

"I have news of Leoric and his followers," he told the eager crowd, now clamouring to hear his every word. "They're headed this way - and they've got our young people with them!"

The effect of the man's words was instantaneous as the people of Dalevore rushed forward in unison, all eager to be reunited with the ones Sanofainus and his guards had stolen from them. And, among the throng of freed slaves, there was almost a stampede as they recognised the voices of family members calling out to them, voices they had long believed they would never hear again . . .

"Jonitrus! Jonitrus, are you among them?"

Jonitrus scanned the approaching crowd for the man who had called his name before running towards one of the two who had been in the Fullmoon on the night Leoric and his party had arrived in Dalevore. "I'm here, Father," he said as the pair drew level with each other, the first of many families to be reunited that day.

"Ubon? Ranita?" It was Zarla seeking out her son and his wife, whom she hoped might take over the running of the Fullmoon in the future. In response, a young man with medium-brown hair who bore a strong resemblence to Zarla's husband ran towards her with a pretty redhead following in his wake. Both greeted the woman warmly, relieved to be out of the Lost Shrine and feeling an immense debt of gratitude to the knights who had braved the underground hell for the sake of those enslaved there.

At length, Zarla smiled at the Spectral Knights and their allies. "Looks to me like you won the day," she observed as those former slaves who had been taken from Dalevore continued to be reunited with their families . . .

* * *

Life and hope had been restored to the town of Dalevore with the return of the young people. Someone had climbed the belltower that stood in the town square and the melodic peeling of bells echoed for miles around after standing silent since the night Sanofainus and his followers launched their raid. The bells had sounded then as well, but as a warning of attack with a sharper, more urgent, tone than the dulcet sounds which issued forth now.

And, for the first time in eight months, the Fullmoon Inn was packed and filled with laughter. It was as if Sanofainus' raid had never happened, as if no-one in the town had ever been enslaved. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the once fractured community was revitalised and ready to begin rebuilding.

"Leoric," Zarla said as she drew level with the Spectral Knights, all seven of whom were seated round the table nearest the fireplace, "you and the Spectral Knights have done more than I dreamed possible - I - I don't know how to thank you . . ."

"I do," Ranita added as she joined her mother-in-law. "As yet, Ubon and I have no child. But, if we do and it is a boy, I promise that we will name him Leoric."

"It's the least we can do," Ubon added. "If you hadn't sworn to save your friends no matter what, all these people . . ." He gestured round at the liberated slaves, who were laughing and joking as if they had never been imprisoned below ground. " . . . would still be in the Lost Shrine, forced to seek those Crystals Sanofainus wanted."

Leoric looked at them briefly, flattered by their offer to name their first-born son after him but trying not to make this too obvious. "Actually, Merklynn hinted that he'd been planning to send us to the Lost Shrine anyway," he admitted. "Having Galadria, Arzon and Feryl taken just gave us a reason to go there . . ."

"Hey!" Ectar cut in before Leoric could finish speaking. "Has it occured to anyone that there's still the small matter of getting home? _Without_ trekking through that Forest of Strangle Vines . . ."

On hearing Ectar's words, Feryl shuddered involuntarily; having barely survived the Strangle Vines on the way to the Lost Shrine, he was not exactly eager for a repeat encounter. "Zarla, do you know of any alternate routes from here to Iron Mountain?" he asked at length.

"Aye," Zarla replied as she took a seat at the table with the Spectral Knights. "You can take a detour round that particular Forest if you head east at the point where you exited it. It'll add a couple of days to your journey, but that's a small price to pay for staying out of trouble."

* * *

Two days later, the Spectral Knights left the Anarchy Zone accompanied by a sizeable number of former slaves, the ones Bogavas and his slaver-monks had seized over the last few months. It had been agreed that they should travel to New Valarak with their liberators and stay there at least until Leoric could find out where they came from. After that, it would be for them to decide whether or not they wanted to return to their own cities, towns and villages.

No longer chained together and constantly bullied and beaten, they began to relax and recover from their terrible ordeal. Indeed, after all the fears and uncertainties of the search for his friends, Leoric found that the time seemed to pass even quicker on the return journey and it seemed as if they had barely set out before a tall majestic mountain loomed on the horizon.

"Is that the mountain you told me about?" Yilly asked Galadria as the crowd stood gazing awestruck at the magnificent peak dominating the landscape. To the casual observer, it seemed to be just another mountain, a monument to the awesome powers of nature, but there was an aura of magic about it that even those who had never been here before could sense.

"Aye, that's Iron Mountain," Galadria replied as she and Cryotek exchanged a glance.

"And is there really a wizard living at the top?" This question came from Casiusa, who had been fascinated by the tales the Spectral Knights told of all their adventures. She did not address anyone in particular, but it was Arzon who answered her.

Yes, Merklynn - he's the one who gave us our magic."

In the midst of the crowd, Bogavas stood looking totally subdued. All his ambitions, all his plans to destroy the Spectral Knights had backfired on him and now he was standing once again on the threshold of Merklynn's domain. All he could hope was that he would be able to bluff his way out of trouble a second time . . .

* * *

Merklynn looked up as the Spectral Knights entered his Shrine with Bogavas in their midst escorted by Ectar and Feryl. He had been watching the progress of the battle in the Lost Shrine on his viewscreen and knew what the outcome had been. All that remained now was to see that the wizard who had contributed so much to everything that had happened there was suitably dealt with.

Bogavas bowed his head as he attempted to convince Merklynn that he had changed, that, if he was given another chance, he would not try to cause any more trouble. "Believe me, Merklynn," he said as the two wizards stood in the middle of the room. "I - I've learnt my lesson and see now that . . ."

"SILENCE!" Merklynn shouted, cutting Bogavas off in mid-sentence. "Do not think that you can deceive me a second time, Bogavas. You are a danger to all free Prysmosians and . . ." He raised his Orb and pointed it in Bogavas' direction. " . . . I hereby banish you to the Wizards' Jail!"

A flash of light shot out of the Orb and converged on Bogavas, who seemed to flicker for an instant before disappearing from the Shrine, leaving no sign that he had ever been present. Merklynn inspected his seven proteges before nodding with satisfaction. "It is over," he told them, relieved that the last member of Sanofainus' inner circle had been neutralised. "The Crystals of Power are permanently out of the reach of mortal men."

"But what of Bogavas?" asked Feryl. "If he escaped once, there's a risk he may do so again."

Merklynn smiled at the young knight, understanding his fears after the way Bogavas had treated him. "None of you need bother about him ever again - I will personally see to it that he stays in the Wizards' Jail. For now, though, we have other business to attend to. I see that your Power Staffs have been used," he said to Leoric, Witterquick and Cryotek. "Normally, I would send you on a quest in exchange for more magic - but, this time, I'm prepared to make an exception."

As one, the three Spectral Knights moved towards Merklynn's magical pool and dipped the tips of their Staffs into the magical golden substance it contained. The Staffs slowly began to glow as the Powers of Strength, Speed and Wisdom returned to them ready to be called on again once they were needed . . .

* * *

The Spectral Knights stood in a v-formation with Leoric at its head, while a crowd comprising nearly fifty freed slaves plus Gawalar and Atla assembled before them.

"The one who stole you from your homes and families has been sent to the Wizards' Jail," Leoric announced, raising his Power Staff as he spoke. "So I think I can safely say that, as of this moment, you are all truly free!"

A wild cheer echoed through the slopes of Iron Mountain as those who had until recently feared all hope of freedom was lost to them finally heard confirmation that their nightmare was over. With one voice, all of the assembled crowd shouted the Spectral Knights' sacred battle cry.

"May the Light shine forever!"

And they had no doubt that, as long as the Spectral Knights continued to fight for justice and freedom, that Light would continue to shine.

* * *

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